The Bite of Ice
by ALadyofRohan
Summary: When the Gods of Tamriel take pity on the dead Boromir they decide to give him a second chance and send him to Skyrim to aid the Dragonborn.
1. Chapter 1

**Preface**

_"To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days."_

Arkay dipped his golden hand into the cold waters of the Anduin. As he lifted it, a small pearly boat floated in the pool of water in his large palm. He looked upon the microscopic thing with sadness. His large fingers brushed his chestnut beard. Perhaps he could persuade the others…

Arkay lifted into the night air, going deep into the stars, where things turned to white and gold. The land of the Divines. He smoothed his beard and ruby red robes as he sat down on his throne, red and black with engraved figures of life and death.

His father, Akatosh, was seated across from him. His white hair outshining even the sun, his long white and gold beard falling low onto his sea foam robes which shimmered gold in the light. The circle of Gods was now complete.

Beautiful Mara held the hand of Akatosh, her delicate hands smoothing over his. Her soft eyes drooped sadly and she appeared to be looking down at her lush green dress.

Green and blue bearded Julianos looked upon Arkay curiously, and flowery blue Dibella whispered to Kynareth.

Dear Kynareth then looked up at Arkay, her pale blue skin glowing faintly and accenting her wondrous eyes.

"It seems you have a request of us." Akatosh began, speaking deeply, his dragon-like eyes flickering.

"I wish for an outside mortal to be brought into Tamriel." Arkay said.

The council was silent.

"Is he of significance?" Talos asked, taking a long draught of mead, letting it pour down his bronze beard.

"I believe so." Arkay concluded.

Curious, Stendarr asked who he was.

Arkay set the small boat on the table. The Divines looked on. A man with coppery hair lie inside clutching his sword. His pallor was almost blue, and many holes pierced his chest.

"This mortal is dead," Julianos said pointedly, "I see no significance in bringing him to Tamriel."

"Perhaps he has a greater purpose." Mara said gently.

"Agreed," Stendarr nodded, shaking his copper and blue mane, "He may be able to prove useful when things turn sour."

Arkay felt the glimmer of hope in his belly, "I would not ask if I did not deem it important, father."

Akatosh said quietly, pondering what was being said.

"Do you not think he will want to return home?" He asked.

"That will be his curse." Kynareth spoke quietly, "To walk under my skies in search of a home that is on a different plane. Bringing this man into an already hostile world." Her blue eyes watered, "I can already see him pining for his own soil. He will wish to return to Gondor, and will never have such pleasure."

"To some it would seem a punishment worse than death." Julianos said.

Arkay frowned, "This is a noble man; he deserves another life."

"What has he done?" Mara asked.

"Saved the lives of those he has cared for. The fate of the world he comes from is sealed, he helped to save it. I feel he will save Tamriel as well." Arkay said.

"The fate of Skyrim lies with another." Kynareth pointed out.

"It could be that he assists with this." Stendarr said.

Akatosh nodded, "It seems my firstborn has become too arrogant, his power will grow. I fear this. So go. Bring this man into Skyrim, see that he has each of our blessings, and may we watch over him in his quest. Be wary though, he may not pay heed to much we have to offer."

Arkay nodded, looking upon the man in the boat with a glimmer of both guilt and relief...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_"Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars."_

Lucia fumbled with the dead grass, dry yellow blades crumbling in her soft hand; she sighed sadly. It was still early in the morning, so no one in Whiterun had even come out to start the day. Lucia ran her tiny fingers through her golden hair, listening to the horses at the stable mumbling in their own language and pawing at the ground. She looked up into the distance, catching a glimpse of the Throat of the World before the sunrise. The moons were still out. It was this period of limbo that gave grace to the Skyrim landscape. The only comfort Lucia sought outside of the city. She stood up, dusting the grass off of her tattered skirt and set out to explore.

It had been a particularly warm start to the morning, which suited Lucia just fine. Her Imperial blood couldn't handle much of what the Native Nords could. It was this particular reason she sought out finding a hideaway once aunt and uncle kicked her out of her now dead mother's home.

No. She couldn't think about that right now. She had a mission.

Lucia followed the stream that ran past the Khajiit camp. Heading towards Whiterun's guard tower, she turned to the woods that pointed in the direction of Riverwood. The ringing of Nirnroot came closer as she neared a greater part of the river. She walked the log she set up like an expert, getting to the other side with ease.

There it was. Lucia smiled.

Hidden under a small cove was a small cave. There was only small remnants of wolves having been there decades ago, otherwise it was untouched by the world, save Lucia's handiwork. True, it wasn't very large, but it was warm and homelike.

Off in the back was a knobby little table, the one Belethor had thrown out just days ago. It was really the centerpiece of this makeshift home. It was roughly hewn and shaped, but it did its job easily. Atop the table was a carved crate housing rich dirt Lucia had taken from the farm. Sprouting from the rich soil was an abundance of blue mountain flowers. Next to the table was a cracked milk jug, sprouting dragon's tongue as tall as Lucia's leg. Hanging from the cave ceiling was moss and an iron rod that random ingredients such as frost miriam, garlic cloves, butterfly wings of all colors, and even a rare pheasant hung from. There was the rabbit she caught yesterday on a tree stump next to her, and in the center was a place to start a fire on cold Skyrim nights.

Under the table, Lucia pulled out a small strongbox with a rusted and broken lock. Opening it, she pulled out her doll, Freida, and a horsehair brush.

For the next half hour, Lucia brushed the doll's wiry golden strands, talking to it as though it knew every secret Lucia had. She wiped her sweating hands onto her tattered green dress and took a glance outside. The sun began to set its glow at the top of Dragon's Reach, meaning that the farmers would come out any second to tend to their growing crops. The First Planting was only a few weeks ago and already there were sprouts greeting the fresh Skyrim air.

Winter was always present in Skyrim, but some months were the worst. This was The Last Seed, meaning that it was still warm (relatively). By the time Heartfire and Frostfall passed, there would be snow almost everywhere. Lucia never really liked the snow, her Imperial blood never adjusted to the cold of Whiterun. However she heard from Brenuin that Winterhold was the coldest and snowiest province in Skyrim, so she supposed Whiterun wasn't too terrible to live in. If living is what you'd call it.

She shook these thoughts from her head again. Lucia scurried around her den to find her patched up apothecary satchel, perhaps she'll actually make some money today?

Setting Freida back in the strongbox, Lucia set her satchel over her shoulder and went outside. The wind blew around some dirt which rustled into Lucia's hair, making her frown. She couldn't stay clean to save her life in this wretched place. Lucia walked over reluctantly to the wider part of the river and splashed her face with the cool water. When she wiped her eyes clear, her jaw dropped.

Floating towards her was a lone white figure. She wasn't sure what shape it started taking, only that it kept hitting the river bank with every thrust the water sent forth.

Lucia dropped her satchel and ran towards the object, which seemed to grow substantially every time she took a step. It became clear it was a boat, however this boat was clearly not any ordinary boat.

It was considerably long and ivory white, like nothing could ever stain the surface of it. Lucia grabbed the side of it and pulled it closer, she found it to be much lighter than she would have ever expected. The wood it was made of was smooth. No splinter could have tried to find its way onto this vessel. Because it was surprisingly light, Lucia managed to get the boat halfway onto solid ground before she stopped cold, eyes widening at the sight she somehow missed.

There was a man. He didn't move but Lucia felt that if she even took a breath that he would lunge at her. He wasn't scary. Not really. Just intimidating. It was with all her willpower that Lucia uttered a slight "hello" to the man.

No response.

Was he dead?

She pulled the boat even more into the grass so that she could get a better look at this man.

His face was pale, and now, Lucia saw there was a glimmer of the sort of kindness a favorite uncle gives in his cheekbones and clear laugh lines. His hair was coppery with slight hints of the color of a dwarven ingot.

Lucia became brave and leaned over the side of the boat. His face became even more distinct. Covered in sweat, he glimmered like a sleeping God. His ragged and slight breathing was the only hint that gave away the fact he was indeed alive. Lucia reached out her hand to touch his forehead, for he seemed ridden with fever. She found her statement to be true.

Mustering up even more courage, the young girl started to drag the boat with the man towards her den. She knew in her bones he needed her help. Stopping at the entrance, Lucia ran back for her satchel. Then she came back to the boat and pushed it vertically until it descended slightly into her den. She could hear items in the boat moving about, but her priority was to get this thing inside.

Once it was inside, Lucia felt that it filled her den up nicely enough to leave her some room to move about.

Carefully, she took the man's oversized shield and rolled it into the corner behind her table. She was wary about his sword, for it was heavier than the boat, but she managed to get it onto the table along with a broken horn which she found to be quite pretty.

Lucia then huffed. She had to push the boat all the way to the back of the wall and started shimmying it so that it began to tip the man over onto the ground. Once he fell with a great thud Lucia set the boat back down and set about dragging the man closer to the middle of the room. She took his beautiful cloak out from under him and set it aside, then she put the only pillow she had under his head to give it elevation.

She wasn't sure how his armor worked, but she managed to at least get his surcoat undone. It was clear that he was sweating with the fever profusely and it made Lucia tear up. She had to remove his jerkin and chainmail in order to give him some cold air.

While the cool breeze flew in and tried to help bring down the intense fever of this man, Lucia set about making a fire to brew a tonic. The fire was small, but tenacious enough to warm up the small black kettle and start to boil the water Lucia ran to the river to fetch.

Carefully, she dropped in the pulled petals of the blue mountain flowers she had and then sprinkled a handful of wheat into the mixture. She knew from Arcadia that the juices from the flower mixed in and melted the wheat to create a healing elixir. As she stirred the mixture together she threw in more of the petals and wheat. The water seeped in and began to solidify into a thick syrup-type liquid. Lucia ran over to her table and grabbed a bowl to pour in the mixture. It wasn't much, but it would suffice for the night. She'd just have to barter for more later.

Lucia ran back outside, tore a piece of cloth from her skirt, and dipped it in the cool river water. Quickly she rushed into her cave and set the cold cloth on the man's forehead. His mouth seemed to contract at its sides, like the water was painful at first, but then his pale lips softened again. She sat his head and torso up, holding the cloth to his head and making the man sip down the elixir.

Once he drank down the liquid, Lucia sat him back on the ground. She ran her fingers through her gross blonde hair, already tired. But she stood up, stoked the fire, picked up her satchel, then looked at the man.

"You're going to be very hungry when you wake up." She said to the sleeping figure.

Lucia went outside, dusted herself off, then headed for the Whiterun walls.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Where there's life there's hope, and need of vittles."_

It was dark and raining in Whiterun as the day started to close. Down the river, going South, was the little town of Riverwood. It's inhabitants were slowly walking from work at the mill and heading over to The Sleeping Giant to grab an ale or mead and head back home to rest up for another monotonous day of hard labor. There wasn't much to the town, no walls for defense, a river running right beside it which both powered the main source of it's income and provided fish for the villagers to live on; and the people were fiercely loyal to each other and that's what really kept the town going.

There were few customers tonight inside The Sleeping Giant, and those who were there kept mainly to themselves. Sven, the Bard, tried with mediocre effort to play his pipes and lighten the dreary mood, but Orgnar, the barkeep, repeatedly kept shooting dirty looks at the bard.

Lucan Valerius was sitting by the fire and sipping on his mead, when Hod, the mill owner, came to sit next to him. Lucan had been overly distraught about his shop getting robbed the other night by bandits. The only thing stolen was his precious Golden Claw. It was the most valuable and important thing he had (other than his sister) and he had to figure out a way to get it back from those thieves…

Hod made small chat with the shopkeeper about the sudden onset of rain they had this night. Lucan told him that Skyrim was notorious for its terrible weather. Then both men sat quietly and drank.

The rain could be heard pounding on the roof. Delphine opened the door and saw that the road leading through town was sloshing up and down in a muddy dance, she closed the door to her inn and told Orgnar to stoke the fire so it roared.

Hod paid Delphine five coins and went on his way home before the rain got worse and so that his wife wouldn't grouse about him drinking. Sven ended his final song and packed up his instruments, . He knew his mother was cooking dinner and he didn't want to miss out. Lucan rubbed his temples, paid Delphine, and then went on his way to make sure Sven didn't pay a visit to his sister.

The Sleeping Giant Inn was now even more quiet than before. Orgnar and Delphine made small chat about the Skeever infestation that needed to be tended to, while they went around and swept the place clean again. The rain kept pouring, it was clear that no one would come to the Sleeping Giant Inn that night. Delphine told Orgnar to go ahead and turn in, she'd stay up for a while in case any customer was crazy enough to brave the rain. It was almost three in the morning when Delphine decided to turn in herself. No one came to the Inn that night…

* * *

><p>It rained for three days and four nights. Barely anyone ever came to the in during those days. The streets were rivers of mud and it stung Riverwood with a fierce and biting cold.<p>

Delphine, being of Breton blood, hated the cold, but she tolerated it as long as a fire burned in the middle of her Inn and there was warm food in her belly.

She sat behind the counter and twirled her light blonde braid with her forefinger. She hadn't seen a customer in over two days and she was extremely restless. She sent Orgnar out an hour ago to gather wood so it could dry inside, Gods knew when the rain was going to stop.

The door to the Inn swung open. The sound of the rain was deafening to Delphine's ears and she stood up expecting Orgnar to be carrying a bundle of pre-chopped wood.

Instead, who closed the door was a cloaked figure, only slightly smaller than Orgnar.

Delphine's eyebrow raised, "Can I help you?" She asked. A pale, slender hand pulled the drenched hood back.

The face in which was revealed was that of a woman. Her hair seemed black, but Delphine could see that as the woman came towards her that her hair was a deep coffee brown and the sides of it were pulled back with braids, leaving the rest of her soaked hair to rest on her shoulders.

"Could I have a room for the night, please?" The woman asked, looking around the Inn. Her accent was strange, not that of any local Nord, but one of exotic properties that you would hear in a Khajiit, only her voice wasn't as gravelly.

Delphine seemed almost entranced by the honey voice that this woman had, and she nearly lost her train of thought. "If you've got the coin, I've got the room."

She said. The woman looked at the open rooms, "I'm sorry, you must be very busy. Perhaps I'll take my business elsewhere."

Delphine narrowed her eyes, "Ten gold pieces."

The woman went into her satchel and slapped the coins on the counter, "Thank you." She said.

Delphine led her to the small room to the left side of the Inn. She stood in the doorway, observing the woman as she took off her cloak. She was wearing the armor of an Imperial soldier, she even had the sword, but her actions didn't seem typical of any Imperial soldier that passed through here...

"If you need anything let me know." Delphine said, still looking at the woman through the slits of her eyes.

The woman perked up at the sound of Delphine's voice, "Thank you."

"Yeah." Delphine nodded to herself, turning away from the woman before she was called out for staring too long. She shut the door behind her.

Inside the room, the woman had set her muddy leather boots to the side and tried her best to bring the feeling back to her raisin-like feet. The skin was shriveled from the intense rain and it would be a while before they returned back to normal. The woman sat upon her straw bed and stared at the door. Her face was hard-set, she was concentrating on her thoughts too much to realize that the rain finally stopped thundering down onto the roof. The color in her eyes flickered from baby blue to a light spring-like green as her thoughts twirled inside of her.

She knew she needed to get plenty of sleep, the day ahead was going to be arduous and she knew that even if she got a few hours of rest, she would be just fine. Her eyes reluctantly closed and she drifted into an uneasy black blur.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Do not scorn pity that is the gift of a gentle heart…"_

Lucia slept in her cave rather than inside the walls of Whiterun that night. Due to its decline into the earth she had to set up a few logs at the entrance to keep most of the rain out, whatever drops decided to fall in were instantly soaked up by the soft dirt.

The man slept soundly, his fever decreasing slowly through the rainy days. He got to where he mumbled in his sleep, naming things that Lucia had no knowledge about. Once in a while he would call out to a Faramir or even sometimes Gondor.

'Who was Gondor?' Lucia wondered as she stirred her blue flowers in her small kettle, paying heed to the amount she put in, too much of one thing could send the man into dangerous shock, so Lucia kept nursing him slowly and taking extra care to set cool rags on his face.

Maybe she should've gone to Arcadia…

'No!' She thought, 'I found him, he's my responsibility!'

So Lucia kept on, rotating between cloths to keep them cool (for which the rain proved very useful), and when she wasn't caring for the man-whom she dubbed Ignatius for the time being-she played with her dolls and went about rationing her small amounts of food.

Lucia wasn't sure how long she'd been in her cave, only that one night the rain finally stopped. It had been keeping back the horrible nights sounds, but now they were back and Lucia had to be extra careful.

"Once you wake, Ignatius," Lucia sat him up again to drip medicine down his throat, "You'll be able to keep the monsters away."

Lucia waited for the rest of the medicine to drain into Ignatius before she stoked the fire, ate her portion of goat cheese and bread, and brushed out her hair. She then went to the cave entrance to separate the partial barrier she created. A burst of cool air ran into the cave, dancing with the flames of the fire. The snap of cold made Ignatius stir. Lucia ran over to him.

When she set her cool hand on his forehead she could tell the fever finally broke, which relieved her, the one thin, dark shirt he wore was still soaked with sweat, but Lucia was wary to remove it, she'd just have to wait…

Ignatius muttered again, this time about something called Isildur and a Bane. It was in this moment that his breathing started to quicken, his nostrils flared, and the intensity of a nightmare made the man flutter his eyes open painfully.

Lucia gasped, she wasn't sure if this was a good thing at all, and she ran to the corner of her cave holding her small butter knife. She waited.

Ignatius' head moved from side to side, making it obvious that he was making sense of where he was. His eyes looked now to the small form in the corner, his lips moved slightly as if he was trying to say something to Lucia, but no sound came forward. Lucia now found that he wasn't so scary, and she moved forward slightly so she could get a better look at Ignatius.

She spoke softly, "I'm Lucia." Her voice quivered.

Ignatius looked at the little girl with confusion, his head moved again from side to side and his eyes were now fully open. Struggling, Ignatius managed to sit up, moving to the cave wall to support himself. He looked again at Lucia, his breathing ragged and weak.

Lucia made patterns in the dirt with her foot, "I...found you in that." She pointed to the white boat leaning against the opposite wall, "You were sick."

Ignatius looked over to the boat, his eyes wide, his lips moved again, this time a deep and soft voice came forth.

"Where," He struggled to speak, "am I." Lucia lowered her guard when he spoke, feeling comfort in the few small words he uttered, "Whiterun." She answered.

The confusion was even more prominent on Ignatius' face, "What province of Middle Earth is that?"

Now it was Lucia's turn to be utterly dumbfounded, "What's a Middle Earth?" They both looked at each other with raised eyebrows and pursed lips. Ignatius coughed and let his head fall against the dirt wall.

"Um," Lucia finally said, "You probably want something to eat."

Ignatius finally became aware of the gnawing feeling in his stomach, "If you would not mind…"

This made Lucia smile, "Well it's not often I have a guest." She jested as she grabbed her kettle off of the small fire, holding its handles with a woolen cloth.

When she went outside to quickly wash the medicine out, Ignatius sat in the cave. He coughed again, his mind wandered as to where Whiterun may be in Middle Earth. True, the little girl had no knowledge of Middle Earth, perhaps she hasn't learned that in a school yet.

"Would you like some soup, Ignatius?" Lucia wandered in, holding her freshly cleaned kettle, "It might sit on your stomach better than bread or cheese."

Ignatius nodded, then looked at her, "Who is Ignatius?"

Lucia paused after she put the kettle on the spit, "It was the name I gave you." She smiled innocently.

"Well that is not my name." The man said, his nose scrunching tightly.

"How was I supposed to know?" Lucia scoffed, chopping up carrots on her small table.

The man nodded, "I suppose you have a point, and it does no good for me to have your name if you don't have mine." He shifted his position so he faced Lucia, "My proper name is Boromir, son of Denethor."

Lucia giggled, "Do you say that all at once when someone is talking to you?" She held back a large laugh, "Boromir, son of Denethor.

"No, just Boromir will do."

* * *

><p>Since the rain had stopped that night the woman had been on the road. The impending breath of autumn's slow transition to winter clung in the air and the rain started to freeze lightly over the sides of the dirt path that led the woman from Riverwood to Whiterun.<p>

It was her specific task to go to the Jarl of Whiterun to ask for aid to Riverwood, the rain had pushed her into the Inn while it was pouring, and every day she was delayed, the oncoming threat of an enemy no one could fathom grew.

The woman continued to walk the path, coming upon a sign that told her that Whiterun was nearing. A dull Imperial sword clanked against her worn leather boots. She made a slight descending and saw that the Jarl's palace-Dragonsreach-was in sight. Her pace began to quicken, her long legs pushing her further than most Nord's of Skyrim could. Now the entirety of the city of Whiterun was in her view. She walked even faster down the hill that took her out of the woods, not even bothering to use the path now.

Once she made it to one of the farms on the outer part of the city, the woman forced herself to stop.

Over in one of the fields she could see a mass of figures locked in a battle of sorts. She looked over to the city, then back at those fighting and rolled her eyes, unsheathing her sword as she ran to the fighters. As she came closer she regretted her decision. A group of men and women were at the feet of a giant, swinging its giant club at those who attacked him.

Giants attacking a farm was naturally not a very good thing, so the woman made a jump over the fence, aided by the moonlight, and slid in the mud on her knees. Under the giants legs she swept through, slashing the weak point of both if its ankles with her sword and dagger. Now out from under the giant, the woman stood up slowly while the giant fell to the ground helpless.

A large man with a greatsword came over to the giants neck and gave it a quick beheading. Blood spattered on his face and he kicked the head away.

The woman cleaned her sword and sheathed it once more, reminding herself it needed to be sharpened. When she looked up she saw a red haired woman with a shocked look on her face coming towards her. She looked about the same age as the woman did, only wiser.

"That was some interesting fighting, friend." She said.

"Fighting," The woman shook her head, "Just cut the tendon of the ankle and your enemy is down. It's merely a dirty tactic."

"Aye, but useful." The redheaded woman said, "I'm Aela. The Huntress." She took the woman's hand. "You should come up to Jorrvaskr, talk to Kodlak Whitemane. The companions could use a fighter like you." Her mouth pulled up in a devilish smirk.

"Thanks, but no thanks." The woman shook her head, "I'm not a fighter."

"Suit yourself, but the Companions are always there if you're looking for work.

Then Adela crossed her arms and turned around, following her fellow Companions into Whiterun. The woman shook her head, following from a safe distance. She waited for them to enter the city before she came up to the gate guards.

"Halt," One of them said, his steel helmet muffling his voice, "No one enters the city unless you have permission from the Jarl."

The woman sighed in annoyance, "Riverwood calls for aid."

The guards looked at on each other.

"I don't believe you." The other guard scoffed.

"Gerdur sent me." The woman pleaded, "Please, they need help."

Again the guards looked at each other.

"Alright," The first one said, "But we're keeping a close eye on you." He pointed his finger at her."

"Thank you." The woman said softly.

Once the gates were opened, the woman raced through the sleeping city, going through the Market District and up the stairs to the Cloud District. A large tree stood in the center courtyard. The woman was caught off guard by how dead it looked.

She ran past the tree and up another flight of wooden stairs to Dragonsreach, palace of the Jarl. A large wooden structure magnificently built to tower over its city. Carved dragon head protruded from the roof, making the woman extremely uneasy. She went to the door and opened it.

Inside Dragonsreach was even more fantastic than it was from the outside. A large fire burning in the center of a large dining hall, and before the fire was the Jarl's throne. even at this late hour the Jarl was wide awake, being counseled by a small squirrel-like man and a regal-looking female dark elf.

The dark elf took one look at the woman and puffed out her chest, going towards her with an air of aggression, her hand on her sword hilt.

"Jarl Balgruuff accepts no visitors. Who are you? What do you need?" She asked quickly.

The woman narrowed her eyes, "I'm a messenger from Riverwood, they call for the Jarls help."

"Irileth," The Jarl then said, his voice booming and his face grave, "Let her come forth."

The woman bowed her head and stepped towards the Jarl, looking warily at Irileth as she did so.

"Gerdur of Riverwood sent me." The woman said dryly. "She needs soldiers sent over, they have to be protected."

"There must be more to that," Jarl Balgruuff said, rubbing his bearded chin, "There is a look about you that tells me there is yet another piece of information. Speak."

The woman sighed sharply with her mouth closed, then she let her arms fall to her sides weakly and looked directly into the Jarl's eyes, "Dragons."


	4. Chapter 4

"_Not all those who wander are lost"_

Everything seemed to flash in quick blurs after the woman entered Dragonsreach. The last thing she really remembered was her telling the Jarl of the urgency in Riverwood. After that there was a lot of yelling, and questioning. The woman told herself that as soon as this was over she'd have to be on her way to…

"You."

Her mind cleared and she glanced up at the Jarl, who was looking directly at her.

"You have done a great service by telling me this, and on your own initiative…" He began.

'Only because I haven't learned to say no to things.' The woman thought.

The Jarl continued, "Since you have done such a favor for my people, I gift you an item from my personal armory."

The woman started to protest when a servant brought forward a pair of sturdy hide boots, but the Jarl insisted she take them. With reluctance, she did. The Jarl sat back in his throne, scratching his beard.

"Since you're here…" He began, the feeling of dread churning in the woman's stomach like bad bread, "I would ask another favor of you." He stood up, signaling for the woman to follow him to a room off to the side.

There was no door, so she could see that there was a man in blue robes working at with a mortar and pestle. He was muttering unintelligibly when she walked in.

"Farengar," The Jarl boomed, bringing the wizard out of his stupor, "I may have found someone to help you on your...quest."

"Is that so?" The wizard looked up, his eyes shaded by his cowl. His lips curved downward displeasingly.

"She is quite capable I assure you." The Jarl confirmed Farengars thought.

"We shall see." Farengar sighed.

The woman shuffled impatiently, "Well, what is it I have to do?" Her lips pursed slightly.

"Ah," The wizard smirked, "Straight and to the point I see. Good, good." He waved his finger around as he moved to his table, bringing over a map, "You see, I have been searching for a stone that would prove much use to us. Up until now no one believed that the dragons would come back, hah, but that didn't stop me from being infatuated with such things." He said giddily.

With a sigh, the woman ran her fingers through her dark hair and spoke quietly, "Where is this stone?"

Farengar pointed to a place on the map, "Bleak Falls Barrow."

"Oh." The woman was shocked, "That's the barrow right over Riverwood."

"Good! You know where it is!' Farengar leaped, "Then I trust you can make it there and back without hindrance?"

"I suppose…" The woman shrugged.

"Excellent." The wizard said, turning back to his potion making.

The woman took this as the extent of the conversation and folded her map quietly. Putting it into her shirt she sighed. The Jarl looked at her gravely.

"I know this is a lot. But. Do this for me and Whiterun will forever be in your service." He set his hand on her shoulder, "That I can promise you." Before the woman could turn and leave, the Jarl tapped her shoulder once more. "Forgive me, my manners were not apparent, I would like to know the name of the stranger who has helped Whiterun."

"Eira."

The Jarl smiled, "Then I shall await your return, Eira."

The woman nodded and, without saying another word, she turned and left.

* * *

><p>Boromir looked around the small cave, lying down in the soft dirt. He saw Lucia boil more of the flower and wheat tonic for him. His lips were chapped and his tongue was dry, but somehow the liquid made that, and the intense pain in his chest, feel much better.<p>

"Where are your parents?" He asked, his voice stronger than before, but still cracked.

Lucia sighed, looking only into the kettle as she spoke, "Father was killed by the Giants when I was a baby," She tried to hold back her tears, "and Mother got a lung sickness last Winter and passed away soon after that."

Boromir felt a deep pity in his stomach, here was this little girl who had lost everything, yet still she cared for him. He sat up more so he could speak more clearly, "I am sorry for your losses. I too lost my mother. Long ago." He confessed.

"Then you know what it's like." Lucia weakly tried to smile.

"Somewhat." Boromir said sadly.

A moment of silence passed between them. Lucia poured her remedy in a small cup, waiting for it to cool before giving it to Boromir. He drank the sweet mixture slowly, savoring the way it felt warm in his stomach and spread all throughout his body. When he finished, Lucia took the cup to wash it in the river, refilling it with the cold water.

"Here," She handed it to him, "It's better to water it down, otherwise your stomach will cramp up something awful."

"Thank you." Boromir took the cup gratefully. After he downed the contents Lucia gave him bread to pick at every once in a while.

While Lucia stoked the small fire, Boromir decided to ask her what he had been wondering.

"When is it that I shall be moving around again?"

Lucia shrugged, "A couple of days at the most."

"Then I shall go to your Whiterun and try to secure a way home." Boromir told her.

"Listen," Lucia crossed her arms, "I asked around to see where it was, and no one has heard it before." She told him, "So whatever you think about doing, it's not possible. If you ask me, the first place you should go to is the Temple. You may get your questions answered there."

"I see." Boromir said quietly.

Lucia frowned, trying to think of a way to help, "Maybe," She started, "You could get a job at the forge, it could make you enough money to buy a horse and then you could get a map and see where your home is. You never know." She shrugged.

"I suppose." Boromir said, "For now, I think I will rest." And he turned over without uttering another word.

Lucia sighed, going to the strongbox to quietly play with Freida once more.


	5. Chapter 5

_"Pay heed to the tales of old wives. It may well be that they alone keep in memory what it was once needful for the wise to know."_

Eira held herself against the damp, moss ridden stone of Bleak Falls Barrow. Her breath was like ice when she slowly exhaled. Already she dealt with the bandits outside and the two right as she entered, but she saw another one walk into the room she needed to get into. She readied her blood-dripping iron sword and bit her lip as she slowly leaned over to see what the man was doing. So far he was just standing there with a piece of paper. Eira watched as he pulled a lever on the floor, presumably to open the gate before him. In an instant he was struck down by a rally of arrows.

Now that he didn't have to be taken care of, Eira stood up straight and went into the room. To her left there were three pillars with animal carvings into them. She went over to the first one, adorning an eagle, and checked around it. When she set her hand on the pillar to see what was carved to the side, it slipped, moving the pillar somewhat in a rotating motion. Stepping back for a moment she noticed that all three pillars were sitting on a not-so-noticeable rotating plate.

'There has to be a combination.' she thought, looking around the room.

Her eyes stopped when she saw a carving with a snake on the floor next to the dead man. She looked up to see that it was the face of three large carved stones that had just fallen to the ground over time. The other two were another snake and a whale.

"Right." Eira stood up straight and walked over to the first pillar.

Twisting the first pillar to the snake carving, Eira shook her head.

"The things I do for people." She muttered, remembering her father's voice telling her that she 'couldn't say no even if she tried.'

She turned the other two pillars to a snake and then a whale. When she stepped back and set her hand on the lever she closed her eyes tightly, expecting arrows to fly at her at any moment, pleasantly surprised when she heard the iron gate open and nothing else. She pushed her hair behind her ear and stepped slowly into the next room, observing the set of spiral stairs heading downwards and the table directly across from her. Picking the small purple soul gem and setting it in her knapsack, Eira glanced at the book on the table. She took the small vial of what smelled like wheat and some sort of flower and stuck it away. Then she turned towards the book.

Before she could pick it up she heard a scratching noise coming from the staircase. Picking her sword back up she turned around and for a moment there was silence. She started to set her sword down again when a large rat-like creature jumped from behind one of the pillars. It salivated as it stared at her with beady eyes.

"What the f…" Eira started.

The rat jumped for her, baring its teeth. It knocked her over and bit at her gauntlets while she held it back. She reached for her sword, struggling against the creature, failing to reach it. She used her right thumb to strike her right palm like it was a match and her hand lit up with flames. Fire shot from her hand and burned the creatures face, knocking it back enough for her to grab her sword and run it through.

She closed her hand and the flames went out, but not before two other rats came out to attack. She slapped one to the side with the flat side of her sword, kicking the other in the face. As it reeled backwards she stabbed the first rat and killed the other in two strikes.

She stood upright, her chest heaving as she wiped away the blood from her sword. Eira pushed her dark hair away from her sweating face, straightened herself out, and eyed the spiral stairs.

"Mara help me." She whispered.

Eira went to the table, grabbed the book and threw it down the stairs. When it reached the bottom she waited. There was a long silence. She decided to make her trek downward.

She kept close to the wall, the old steps creaked less on the side. To her it felt like an eternity before she came to the bottom…

* * *

><p>Lucia watched Boromir wolf down his potato soup. It was all she was able to make, yet he still at it feverishly.<p>

His wounds improved each day, his only ailment being a chronic headache that surfaced whenever he tried to think of his home.

"I'm glad you can eat something at least." She finally spoke up.

Boromir nodded, wiping his mouth and setting his bowl down, "I thank you again, child."

Lucia frowned, "I told you, you can call me Lucia."

"I apologize." Boromir leaned his back against the cave wall, holding his stomach.

His gaze went to the entrance of the cave, "What's out there?"

Lucia crossed her arms, "Nothing exciting I suppose. It's just Whiterun. I guess it's an okay place, if you live there."

"Do you not live there?"

"On the streets." Lucia shrugged, "It's not much of a home if you don't have one to go to in the first place."

"I apologize," Boromir said quietly, "It's unfair of me to ask."

Lucia shrugged once more, "I don't mind, really. I get by." She looked around her cave of random treasures.

"It does no good for a child to be alone." Boromir stated, "At least I had grown up with a brother, whom I miss very much."

Lucia thought for a moment, "I'll go with you."

"What?"

"To find your home," Lucia stood up, "I'll go with you to help."

"Certainly not," Boromir protested, "The world is not safe for a young girl, let alone one she has never seen."

"What's the point of an adventure if you're going somewhere you know?" Lucia crossed her arms and tapped her foot, "Besides. You can't go anywhere until you're better."

Boromir frowned, "I feel fine." He tried to move.

Lucia raised her brow, watching the burly man struggle to make his way out of the cave to no avail. Boromir paused.

"Perhaps I need another day." He grumbled.

Lucia shook her head, "I'm old enough to go with you. Who else is gonna take care of you," She helped him sit back up, handing him another medicinal liquid to drink for his pain, "You very well can't ask the skeevers, can you?"

"What in the name of Mandos is a skeever?" Boromir scrunched his nose after sniffing the contents of the drink he was given.

"Everyone knows what they are," Lucia rolled her eyes, "The stupidly large and ugly rats that live in Skyrim."

"I've no knowledge of such creatures. Therefore I'll have to see one before I believe you." Boromir chuckled.

"You wouldn't want to," Lucia sighed, "They have a lot of diseases."

"So do many creatures."

"It's your funeral, Boromir."

* * *

><p>Eira pulled her longsword out of the giant frostbite spiders skull. She ignored the dark elf that had been caught in its web while she searched the room for anything worth taking, only finding a few gold septums.<p>

"Are you going to cut me down now?" The dark elf asked.

"You will answer my questions first, Arvel." Eira demanded, remembering the bandits had said his name before she killed them. She walked to Arvel, putting her sword to his throat, "I'm looking for a stone tablet. It's very old and probably worth more than you are." She growled.

The use of his name frightened him, "Tablet? I don't know about a tablet. I was just here for the golden claw." Arvel struggled against the spiders web.

Eira remembered one of the Riverwood villagers complaining about a stolen golden claw. She put her blade closer to Arvel's throat, right up to his adam's apple.

"What about the claw?"

"I know how it works. The claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories, I know how they all fit together!" He piped up, "The Nords have a power here, one you could never hope to understand. Please cut me down and I'll show you."

Eira didn't appreciate her intelligence being questioned, but she saw what little choice she had.

"Fine," She removed her sword, "But if you run, I'll kill you." She warned.

"Sweet breath of Arkay." Arvel sighed.

Eira saw the look in his eyes before he made another move. She knew he would run.

She swiped her thumb across her palm again, a fire building up in her hand. She shot a burst of it at Arvel's leg, he screamed. Her burns did not deter him from running from her.

Eira chased after the dark elf, shooting quick bursts of fire at him and shouting curses.

She chased him to an open room, knowing that's where he turned before she lost sight of him.

She came to a quick stop when she saw Arvel stuck in the chest with a blade. Three gaunt and bony creatures had growled at him. Eira's throat went dry when they spoke in a dead language. One pulled it's sword out of Arvel, pointing at Eira.

Draugr.

"Let's dance." Eira held up her sword, shooting fire at the closest one.

It ran towards her, flames rising over it's body before it fell just before her feet. The smell of burning dead flesh stinging Eira's nostrils.

The other two made strange gurgling noises, coming towards Eira with their weapons.

Eira fought the first one off, parrying with her sword before cutting the draugrs head clean from it's rotting neck. The other surprised her from behind. Eira backed up quickly into a mossy stone pillar, hearing bones crunch. The draugr bit her neck, Eira moved forward again and back up into the pillar even harder.

She pressed up against it, feeling the draugr squirm. She saw from one of the catacombs that another draugr had awoken.

"Oh, come on." She shouted angrily, pressing the draugr even harder on the pillar. She stopped when she heard a loud snap.

The other draugr hadn't even crawled out of its tomb before Eira ran her sword over its throat, cutting off the rotted head.

Eira looked around, her arms extended outwards, "Anyone else?" She asked, her voice raised in annoyance.

When she received silence, she walked over to Arvel and took the golden claw from him, securing it in her satchel. Eira put her hand to her neck, seeing that the draugr had drawn blood. She opened her satchel and pulled out the potion she had found earlier, dripping it onto her wounds.

She winced at the stinging pain, hearing the sizzling and popping of the potion at work. Pleased to see that the bleeding had stopped, she stored the potion away, going around to search the room to see if there was anything of importance, finding a bowl with bone dust, and another wheat-scented potion. She stored them away, heading further into the tomb.


	6. Chapter 6

_"__Never laugh at live dragons."_

Eira stared at the stone door for what seemed like hours. She sat cross-legged on the floor wondering how she could possibly open it.

She knew the claw had something to do with it, but she wasn't sure what the animal symbols meant. She rubbed her eyes, groaning when they burned from exhaustion.

"I'm not even supposed to be here…" She muttered to herself, thinking back to the day the Imperials caught her crossing the border from Cyrodiil.

She had travelled all the way from Jorval, at the Southwest part of Elsweyr, to get to Skyrim. Her main mission had been set aside to do this confounded quest into the Barrow. She told herself that as soon as the Dragonstone was given to the wizard, she would go down to the marketplace and tear that man limb from limb…

Looking at the claw, she wondered if she could use it to tear out his eyes. Her eye caught animal symbols on the underside.

"For the love of Mara…" She sighed in annoyance, getting up to change the rotating locks on the door to the pattern on the claw, then put it back in her satchel.

She inserted the claw into the slot where the talons would fit and twisted it.

Eira took a step back when the large tumblers started turning, rock grinding against rock. She watched them align and then the door started lowering.

She drew her sword, warily stepping through. Ascending the uneven set of stone stairs, she almost dropped her weapon when she saw the large and open cavern that lay before her.

It was a sight to behold. The ceiling of rock was high up, Eira could barely make out the forms of stalactites. A stream ran right through the center, and Eira cleaned the blood from her face. She shook her hands to rid them of cold water droplets, and made her way to the main focus of the cavern.

A tomb sat upon a large rise and before it was a momentous wall.

Something whispered to her. It seemed to call to her. Eira felt like she was in a trance, climbing up to the wall. She ran her hand over the strange runes, the closer she got to the center, the louder the whispers became. They seemed to speak an ancient tongue, nothing that Eira could decipher.

One of the runes started to glow the closer she came to it. Now standing before it, Eira felt the overwhelming sensation of seemingly being lifted into the air, but her feet were still on the ground.

Ribbons of light burst forth from the rune. Eira felt a great energy rush into her. Her entire body felt like a large flame had been set around her, but she could feel no burn.

The light began to die away, and Eira was left standing and wondering what had just happened to her. A cold sweat broke out, her mind raced with images of a life she had never known. A great black dragon roared, the one she had seen when she escaped Helgen, but now she could understand something from its monstrous roar.

"Fus!" The dragon roared, naming something else that she could not understand.

She fell to the ground, the images disappeared and she breathed heavily.

"What the…"

There was a large boom from behind her. She spun around to see the tomb had burst open and the bony hands of a draugr with a horned helm began to sit up. The Dragonstone was clutched tightly in its rotting arms.

"Shit."

* * *

><p>"And that's when I stole my first sweet roll." Lucia smiled, holding onto Boromir's arm while they walked a ways through the grass outside of Whiterun.<p>

"Why have you taken to theft? Have you no mother to teach you that is not proper behavior?" Boromir asked.

Lucia shrugged, "Mama died not too long ago."

"Your father?"

"I never really knew him."

Boromir choked back his next words, then thought, "I am sorry."

"It's alright, I'm better off than I was before..." Then she added, "So that means you have to take me when you leave, right?" Lucia laughed.

Boromir gave way to a slight smirk, "We shall see." He mussed her hair.

The two went into the city, Boromir ended up striking a conversation with their blacksmith, Adrienne, and offered to help around the forge, for she was pressed to make new armor for the Imperial army.

While Boromir was busy conversing with Adrienne about the forging process, Lucia had been taken with the woman who had entered the city. She watched the woman, who was clearly annoyed. In her hand she held a large stone, and Lucia noticed they were bruised over as if she had been in an intense fight.

Lucia left Boromir, following the woman close behind. She could not explain it, but she was enchanted with the way this woman carried herself, like a proud Nordic woman who could kill with a glance. She was who Lucia felt like she should aspire to be.

She followed the woman up near Dragonsreach, where a guard kept her from following inside.

Lucia pouted, turning back. She found Boromir in the market looking for her.

"Where did you go off to?" He asked, bending down to check for wounds, "I turn around and you were gone,. What were you thinking?"

"Calm down," Lucia scoffed, "I've lived here my whole life, I know where I'm going."

"Someone could have hurt you." Boromir frowned.

"I can handle myself, see?" She gave him a punch in the arm.

Boromir broke into a smile, "Oh yes, quite the fearsome shield maiden I see."

The two went back into the market, Boromir told Lucia that someday he would get her all the jewelry and daggers she wanted. All of the people in the marketplace fell into a hush when a large group of guards came down from Dragonsreach.

The woman who Lucia had been following was at the head, with Irileth, whom Lucia explained to Boromir she was the Jarl's housecarl.

Boromir was busy admiring the battalion that he hadn't noticed Lucia slipped away again to follow the woman.

"Confounded…" He groaned.

The group of guards had left the city, and so had Lucia. Boromir ran for her, finding her hiding behind a rock outside of the city, watching the guards head towards a burning watchtower.

"Have you learned nothing?" Boromir asked.

Lucia didn't look at him, her eyes widening. Boromir looked to see what she was looking at.

Coming from the mountains, a shadowy form was flying in the sky. As it got closer he could see it was a dragon. All breath left him, and he stared at it as it descended upon the group of guards. He and Lucia were close enough they could feel the heat from it's fire, guards screaming at they burned.

"Get out of here!" Boromir yelled to Lucia, running to one of the bodies and taking up a great sword and rushing into battle.

Lucia looked on as Boromir helped to fight off the dragon. She screamed when it swatted at him, sending him back. He laid on the ground, holding his hand to where the claw of the dragon had ripped open a part of his chest.  
>The woman she had followed stood between Boromir and the dragon, sword in hand, the other holding a bloody dagger.<p>

She and the dragon seemed to be at a standstill. After a few moments of painful silence, the dragon roared, and the woman let out a vicious warcry, running for the dragon as it reared to breath a great inferno. As it's throat turned orange with fire, the woman ran up onto its head plunging her sword into its neck, driving her dagger into both of it's eyes.

The dragon seemed to scream the words, "Dovahkiin, no!"

The woman fell to the ground while the dragon withered and died. She was breathless, looking upon the corpse with disdain.

A great sparkling light rose out of the body of the dead dragon, it suspended into the air for a moment, then rushed into the woman's body. She screamed as it pulsed through her, her eyes went completely white, and her scream turned into the roar not unlike the dragon she had just slain.

Lucia came out from behind her rock, holding Boromir's bloody hand while they all watched in utter awe as the woman rose to her feet, eyes still burning with the light, her expression of pain changed to that of raw determination and a stoic power.

One of the guards fell to his knees, removing his helmet and said, "Dragonborn."

A few other of the Nord guards did the same, looking at the woman as she easily pulled her weapons from the dragon's corpse. Her eyes turned back into their imposing icy green color.

"I can't believe it," A guard stepped towards her, "It's just like the legends."

"I don't understand." She said, her voice hard, but to Lucia it was like honey.

"You are the Dragonborn. The first to slay a  
>dragon since Tiber Septim himself." Another guard said.<p>

"I don't believe you." Another guard said.

"Idiot," The other guard rounded on him, "Did you not just see? She took the very soul of the dragon. Only the Dragonborn can do that," He turned back to the woman, "Try to shout." He said.

"What?" The woman was in disbelief, "I'm not the Dragonborn, I…"

"Just try." Another guard said.

The woman seemed to click something together in her head.

"The Barrow…" She whispered, turning to the corpse.

"Fus!" A great power burst forth from her throat, the shout was like a great force of wind, that set the body of the dragon back a few feet.

The woman stepped back, as if not quite knowing what to do with this newfound power.

"That was shouting!" the guard said, "Only those who study the thu'um can do that. The Dragonborn is said to be born with the power, not needing to teach themselves."

"I'm not the Dragonborn." The woman snarled, sheathing her sword and pushing past everyone and making her way to the city.

Everyone watched her go, Lucia held tightly onto Boromir when Irileth came over, her red eyes seemingly piercing into the two.

"You are not a guard." She said bluntly.

"No, I am not." Boromir said.

She nodded, "You fight well. Come see me back in Dragonsreach, I could use a man like you as part of the Jarl's personal guard."

"Thank you." Boromir seemed surprised.

Irileth gave a curt goodbye, calling the others to follow her back to the city. As they walked, the ground began to shake, and a great thunder descended from the mountains. Boromir held onto Lucia as a roaring echo hit the cool air. He couldn't understand what was being said, and he didn't really want to know. It was over in an instant. He released Lucia, not sure what to think of what had happened in the last hour.

Lucia looked up at Boromir, "Well that was new."

* * *

><p>"The dragons can be killed, that's good enough for me." Irileth said to the Jarl.<p>

He looked at Eira, who was clearly uncomfortable with this newfound attention.

"You heard the call of the Greybeards," His brother said, "She is the Dragonborn."

Jarl Balgruuf nodded slowly, "It seems they summon you to their place up in the mountains, High Hrothgar." He told her, "It is a great honor to be called. Never before have they meddled with our day-to-day life."

"I didn't ask for this." Eira said.

"No one does, I think." The Jarl said, watching Irileth going to the hall doors to greet a man and girl, "At any rate. Allow me to thank you, Eira. You have done me a great service time and time again. You helped our court wizard, and yet again went out to save a city you are not part of from a dragon. As a reward, I grant you title of Thane. And I assign Lydia to be your personal housecarl."

Eira shifted her position, "You would do that for a woman you barely know?"

"A woman who took it upon herself to save innocent people. I think that deserves reward." The Jarl smiled, "And hopefully I can have the chance to know the Dragonborn a little more." He then added, "But I will leave you to rest. If I might make a friendly suggestion, you should go to High hrothgar, the Greybeards do not call upon just anyone."

"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf." Eira bowed, turning to leave.

Another Nord woman greeted her, she was dressed in clean steel armor, her brown hair cut to her shoulders and braided back.

"I am Lydia," She introduced herself, "I am to be your housecarl."

"Eira, I am pleased to make your acquaintance," Eira took Lydia's arm in greeting, "I must confess I am not the type of woman who has a housecarl."

"I am sworn to you," Lydia said unenthusiastically, "To protect you. Even guard you with my life." She said.

"Well, I hope it doesn't have to come to that."

"As do I." Lydia sighed.  
>Eira looked to a bench that sat along the back wall, where a small girl in a green dress sat, dangling her feet. She walked over to her and squatted down.<p>

"Hello." She said, her normally harsh tone softening when she looked at the girl, "What is your name?"

"Lucia." The girl said happily.

"That's very pretty," Eira smiled, "I am Eira."

Lucia smiled, "I saw you fight that dragon."

Eira cocked her head to the side, "A battlefield is no place for a little girl."

"I'm not a little girl," Lucia pouted, "I can fight just as well as a grown woman, even better."

Eira chuckled, "I'm sure you can. You know, I have a sister who is just like you."

"She must be very pretty then."

"Incredibly," Eria laughed, "And if I know my sister, she would want to have this." She took her steel dagger and sheath from her belt, handing it to Lucia, "Maybe?" She asked coyly.

Lucia felt like her breath had been taken from her, she took the dagger and sheath, admiring it's fine craftsmanship, "Thank you."

"Be sure to keep it sharpened," Eira said, "You never know when you'll have to kill a dragon." She stood up, "I am pleased to have met you, Lucia."

Lucia saw Boromir come over to her, holding new armor. His chest was bandaged up, and he looked almost angry.

"Lucia, what is that?" He asked.

Eira turned to him, "It is a gift."

"Now I can properly kill those skeevers by my den." Lucia stabbed the air.

Boromir seemed flustered, "She is quite young to have such a weapon, I think."

"Nonsense," Eira said, "I was her age when I killed my first bear."

"She is not you." Boromir said.

"Do you have a problem?" Eira said, Lydia stood behind her, hand reaching for her axe.

Lucia got between them, "It's no problem, really. C'mon, Boromir. I can give it back if you want."

"It was a gift, pup." Eira said, not taking her gaze away from Boromir's, "Keep it."

Boromir glared at her, "Come on, Lucia, I have enough gold to get us a room for the night."

"Really?" Lucia said excitedly, "Let's go!" She pulled him, she looked at Eira, "Thank you again!"

Eira watched them go, still glaring when they left.

"I have a feeling being your housecarl is going to be very interesting." Lydia laughed.

Eira looked at her, amused, "Let's go get a drink."


	7. Chapter 7

**_Quick A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS TRIGGERS TOWARDS THE END SO PLEASE BE AWARE OF THAT WHEN READING_**

_"__Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere." _

One Month Later

"He's at it again." Nazeem complained, "I do not pay to live in the cloud district to be bothered by his Nord ravings!"

Boromir rubbed his temples, "I will talk to Heimskr again."

"Throw him in the dungeons!" Nazeem demanded.

"He is a priest."

Nazeem scoffed, storming out of the office.

Not even a week ago Boromir had been promoted to the second in command of the Whiterun guard. He suddenly regretted accepting. Most of his day was usually spent in the office listening to Nazeem's complaints.

He got up and put on his sword belt. Boromir walked up the stairs from the marketplace, a few of his men following him up into the Wind District. Heimskr stood in front of his shrine of Talos, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"But you were once man! Aye! And as man, you said, 'Let me show you the power of Talos Stormcrown, born of the North, where my breath is long winter. I breathe now, in royalty, and reshape this land which is mine. I do this for you, Red Legions, for I love you.' Aye, love. Love! Even as man, great Talos cherished us. For he saw in us, in each of us, the future of Skyrim! The future of Tamriel!" Heimskr waved his arms around crazily.

"And there it is, friends," He continued, "The ugly truth! We are the children of man! Talos is the true god of man! Ascended from flesh, to rule the realm of spirit! The very idea is inconceivable to our Elven overlords! Sharing the heavens with us? With man? Ha! They can barely tolerate our presence on earth! Today, they take away your faith. But what of tomorrow? Do the elves take your homes? Your businesses? Your children? Your very lives?" He raved.

Boromir sighed, walking over to him and setting a hand on his shoulder, "That's enough, Heimskr."

"I am the chosen of Talos!" Heimskr said, "I am here to spread his holy words!"

"We've talked about this." Boromir said, "You can't slander the elves or any other races when you do this. I will throw you in the dungeons if this continues."

"I only speak the words Talos conveys through me!"

"Then Talos will have to silence his racism."

"You dare!"

"Heimskr." Boromir quieted him, "Enough. You may preach, just keep your opinions about anyone other than a Nord to yourself."

"Yes. Yes..." Heimskr agreed, clearing his throat to preach again.

Boromir shook his head and walked away, he looked at his guards, "Keep an eye on him. If he gets out of hand just bring him to my office."

"Yes, Sir." The guards bowed.

"Boromir, Sir!"

Boromir turned to see another of his guards running up to him.

"What is it, Ulf?" Boromir asked.

"Commotion at the Inn." Ulf said, "I wasn't sure how to handle it."

"I'll be down there at once then." Boromir said quickly, he already had a feeling of dread creeping into his stomach.

* * *

><p>Eira sat with Lydia at the Bannered Mare, both sipping on Honningbrew Mead and chatting.<p>

"Might I speak freely?" Lydia asked.

Eira shrugged, "You don't have to ask permission."

Lydia sighed, "Are we going to High Hrothgar now? It's been a month since the call."

After a moment of thought, Eira finally said, "I don't know. A lot of things have happened these last few months. It's quite a bit to take in." She finished her mead, "If there's a responsibility of being Dragonborn, I don't want it. I had my own plans for when I got to Skyrim." She looked around the room, "As is, it has already taken me too long to get anywhere with what I need to do. Which reminds me, don't forget about that thing." She reminded Lydia, keeping her words cryptic.

Lydia ignored her, "You are a Nord woman, you should know what an honor it is to be summoned by the Greybeards."

"Oh for the love of…" Eira started, "Just because I am a Nord doesn't mean anything."

Their conversation was cut short when a commotion began in the center of the Inn. Eira could see Carlotta Valentia almost in Mikael's face, veins popping from her neck. She looked livid. The two women watched the confrontation. Eira could see that Carlotta was close to tearing the bard limb from limb.

"You leave me be." Carlotta said, teeth gritting.

"You, woman, are a wild mare, I aim to tame you." Mikael drunkenly said.

Carlotta grabbed him by the collar, "Touch me again and I will kill you."

He laughed and hiccuped, "I'd like to see you try."

Eira spit up her mead, wiped it away, and ran to intervene.

"Let's just settle down," She stepped between them, "Just go back to your drinking. I'm sure this can all be put behind us. Carlotta, I'm sure you'd like to get back to the marketplace. Save a few of those apples for me, would you?"

"Fine." Carlotta snarled, still looking at the bard with an intense glare as she backed away to leave.

"Forget Carlotta." Mikael drunkenly stumbled, "I'd like to take you for a ride."

Eira sighed, "I'm sure you would." She patted his shoulder, then took the man's head and bashed it into her knee. She threw him to the floor and looked to his friends.

She threw her arms up, "Go ahead." She beckoned them, unamused.

"Yes." Lydia said to herself, drinking the rest of her mead before joining the drunken brawl.

The whole Inn was in an uproar, the friends to the now unconscious man charging for Eira, only to find themselves on the ground when Lydia caught them off guard.

The two of them fought off the men who were friends of Mikael, who was on the floor writhing.

Hulda had slipped outside to call the guards. They came up to Eira, who still held the man in a chokehold. She dragged him along to settle things with the guards.

Eira went up to Boromir, ignoring the squirming of the man she held captive.

"I am so sorry for the disruption," She said, "I will certainly take care of any damages done here." Then she sucked air through her teeth, "Unfortunately, you will not be able to jail me, seeing as how I am Thane. As someone who restores order, I saw fit to protect this man from being killed. It was all a misunderstanding really."

Boromir sighed, crossing his arms, "Why is it always you?"

"I'm a giving person."

Boromir scoffed, "By destroying property?"

"Things happen when you defend women who are being harassed by no good bards. Isn't that your job?" Eira cocked her head to the side.

"It is. And I don't need you doing it for me." Boromir glared, looking down at the man who Eira still held in a chokehold.

Eira sighed, letting the man fall to the ground.

"Your status as Thane can only go so far." Boromir said, "Next time I might not be so nice."

"I'm terrified." Eira said.

"Well you have to arrest someone!" Hulda said hysterically.

"She's with me," Eira quickly said, pulling Lydia to her, "Can't be a Thane without bodyguards, right? Might I suggest this fellow?" She pointed to Mikael, "The poor fool instigated a needless fight and is in fact harassing patrons and townsfolk alike."

"Fine." Boromir shook his head, "We'll get them out of here." The other guards arrested the drunken rabble rousers.

After they left, Eira gave the owner a few septims to cover any damages. Boromir walked up to her.

"This has to stop." He said.

"Nonsense," Eira waved him off, "I was just doing my duty as a citizen of Whiterun."

Boromir sighed, "You can't keep doing this. This is what the guards are for."

Eira started to say something, but Lydia interrupted.

"We'll stop."

Eira sighed, "No, do not do that." She shook her finger at Lydia.

"We need to focus on other things." Lydia said, "Things that are of more importance." She gritted her teeth.

"Right." Eira said, "Things."

Boromir just glared at the two of them.

"We'll just get out of your way then." Lydia said, pushing Eira past Boromir.

"Nice seeing you again." Eira commented.

Boromir watched the two women leave, wondering what in the name of Mandos had he gotten himself into.

* * *

><p>Eira sat in the dark, watching the snow fall from her window. She was dressed in a homely attire, a simple black undershirt and fur-lined trousers. She had taken off her leather gloves, absently tracing the intricate scars on her fingers and hands. On her forefingers, there were five chevrons with another five above her knuckle. On her left middle finger there were a few unrecognizable letters and an inguz on the inside. Lydia tried asking what they meant, but at the time Eira didn't feel like talking about it.<p>

Eira didn't need to look down at her hand to know the ribbon-like diamond pattern of black ink around her thumbs that wrapped around her wrists and up her arms.

The fire in the center of the home had gone out hours ago, and Eira could feel the autumn chill of Hearth Fire start to settle in.

She had purchased Breezehome not as a comfort to herself, but to watch the nightlife of Whiterun. Only Lydia really used it as a home, as she lived there more than Eira did. This last month Eira had been working odd jobs, mercenary work for the people of Whiterun. She had only just come back from killing bandits for the Jarl over by Redoran's Retreat.

Every once in awhile Eira would glance over to her iron shield, feeling that maybe it was time to get a new one.

"The moons seemed to be covered by the clouds," Lydia broke Eira's train of thought, coming down from the upper level of the home, "Tonight seems as good as any."

Eira sat quietly for a bit longer, observing the now deserted streets.

"Do you feel up to taking a stroll?" She finally asked.

Lydia looked outside, seeing Belethor, the local shopkeep, taking his usual nightly stroll past Breezehome and up into the Cloud District.

"I'll get the coin purse." Lydia said, going back upstairs into Eira's room, "You go on ahead."

Eira stood up and fixed her hair, making sure that her braids were still in place. She took up a few books from her shelf and then turned to the door.

Eira could see her breath as she walked out into the night, not that the cold would bother her. Despite living most of her life in a warmer climate, she felt that Skyrim's weather suited her just fine indeed.

She knew that Belethor would take his walk through the Cloud District residencies, so Eira walked the opposite way to cut off his path up by the dead Gildergreen tree. Whenever she walked past a guard, they would give her a small salute and continue on their way.

Before Belethor arrived by the Gildergreen, Eira made sure to loosen the strings of her voile shirt, just enough so that one could catch a glimpse of the top of her breasts.

Eira saw Belethor turn the corner so that he could now she her. She pretended to trip up and dropped the books she had brought.

"Oh damn…" She huffed.

Belethor came over and picked up one of the books for her.

"The Lusty Argonian Maid?" He read the title.

Eira silently cursed herself, but stood up to meet his gaze. She was a head taller than he, but it just helped Eira's plan further.

"I was borrowing a few books from Ahlam. I was thinking about joining the Companions, what better way than to get in good with one of their members?" Eira said quickly, taking the book.

Belethor raised his brow, "If you say so."

Eira noticed his eyes flicking back and forth between the book and her chest, feeling somewhat accomplished.

"I'm going to head back through the Market District" Eira said, "I'd appreciate the company."

She watched Belethor shift his position, even in the dark she could see him bite his lip.

"Absolutely."

Lydia sat in her hidden corner behind Arcadia's Cauldron. She fumbled with the strings to the coin purse, waiting for Eira.

Her boredom was broken when she heard Eira laughing at something Belethor must have said. They passed a guard that was walking around the marketplace and went around Belethor's shop to use the back entrance.

Lydia then watched Eira run her finger under Belethor's chin. He reacted by grabbing at her ass, Eira giggled in response. Lydia felt the strange twinge of jealousy, but kept back.

Belethor beckoned Eira inside. When he had turned away, Eira looked over to where Lydia was, holding up five fingers.

Once the door to the shop closed, Lydia quietly walked over. She stood up against the wall. A guard started to walk past her. He stopped suddenly in front of her.

"What's going on here?" He asked, holding his torch closer to Lydia's face, "It's late, you shouldn't be sneaking around."

Lydia sighed, "You know I'm a housecarl. I'm just making sure the Thane makes it home safe."

The guard looked around, "I don't see her."

"She's inside, idiot." Lydia said.

"Why?"

Lydia just looked at the guard, waiting for him to come to his own conclusions.

"Oh...OH!" The guard said.

Lydia took out a few septims, "For you to keep this under wraps."

"Of course," The guard started walking away, trying to get the images out of his head, "Yes...I'll just…" He sped away.

After the guard went away, Lydia leaned back up against the wall and scoffed.

"Fool."

Eira pushed Belethor to the bed. She was on top of him, moving her hips back and forth. She felt his hand under her shirt and running up from her stomach up to her breasts. His other hand went into her pants, his finger running along her slit.

Belethor tore off Eira's shirt, he could see a dotted line of deep scars running from her collarbone down to between her breasts, looping back up like a permanent necklace. Another set of parallel dotted lines ran past those from each of her shoulders, going down to cross from above her navel and to the opposite hip. It seemed to wrap around to her back. What he couldn't see was the large dotted X on Eira's back. Her whole body was covered in scars, some more recent than others.

"What's the matter?" Eira asked coyly.

"Nothing." Belethor said, pushing aside an already fleeting thought.

Eira bit her lip, taking the hands that were fondling her breasts to tie them to the bedpost.

"Is that how this is going to go?" Belethor chuckled, "You are a minx aren't you?"

Eira smiled, leaning back. She could feel his erection under her, and stopped moving her hips.

"This is going to hurt." She said.

Belethor stopped grinning, "What?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember," Eira frowned, she cocked her head to the side, "That was the first thing you said to me when you pulled me from my home out of the arms of my screaming mother."

Belethor was silent for a moment, trying to process what Eira had just said. Suddenly he started pulling on his binds. Eira just sat on top of him, watching panic start to set in.

"Two Nord girls. One ten, one five," Eira started, "What else did you say? 'The older one would be a good breeder.'?" She moved forward in one fluid motion, grabbing Belethor's chin violently, "What's the matter? Do you still not remember? Granted I didn't have the slave markings the last time you saw me naked." She snarled.

"Iveirana?" Belethor choked out.

"Oh good. You do remember." Eira scoffed.

"How?"

Eira laughed, "I spent twenty years down in Elsweyr. They told me I sold at a good price for a Nord girl. You remember. Bought by some pig Imperial noble because he needed someone to bathe his wife." She paused, "The only thing I don't know is where you sold my sister."

"I don't…"

Eira clamped down harder onto his chin, "Don't lie to me."

"I don't remember. That was twenty years ago." Belethor tried to squirm.

"You're telling me your don't remember the five-year-old girl who bit your hand? I remember. You slapped her so hard she passed out." Eira said angrily. She wound her hand back quickly to hit Belethor, "Remember now?" She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, "Who did you sell her to?"

Belethor glanced over to his dresser.

Eira got off of him and opened the wardrobe, ruffling through the mess before she found a black journal. She tore it open.

It almost made her throw up seeing how many people were written down, all with specific dates and personal details. Eira found her given name near the center. Underneath was her sister's name.

"Alfanna…" Eira whispered.

"You have the ledger. Let me go." Belethor demanded.

Eira stood back up to her full height, she put her shirt back on haphazardly, not tying the strings up so as she moved, her breasts would sometimes show. She paced a few times at the edge of the bed, her eyes glued to her sister's name in the book.

Finally, she went out of the room.

Belethor tried his best to loosen the knots, but they were too tight. Next he tried to break the post, but he froze when Eira came back into the room, this time with a fire poker.

"I'm only going to ask you once," She said darkly, "Why doesn't it say who she was sold to?"

Belethor's eyes widened, "I can't…"

"Shame." Eira dropped the journal, moving to the side of the bed.

Eira brought the fire poke down upon Belethor's right knee like a blacksmith hammering a weapon. There was a loud crack and Belethor let out a loud cry. Eira went around to the other side of the bed.

"Do I have to ask again?"

Belethor started to weep.

"The name." Eira demanded.

She could hear Belethor fumbling with his words, between sobs all she could make out was M.

"That's a start," Eira ran the blade of the fire poker over the entirety of Belethor's leg, "But I think you can do better."

"She'll kill me." Belethor sobbed.

"Oh, sweet thing," Eira pouted, she reached over and grabbed Belethor's broken knee, pressing her fingers deep into the swollen skin, she spoke over his screaming "I. Will. Kill. You."

Belethor let out another cry when Eira twisted the knee cap slightly.

"It's Maven," He wept, "Maven Black-Briar...I never write her name in. It's too incriminating."

Eira let go of his knee.

"Thank you." She said.

"Please let me go," Belethor begged, "I told you the name."

Eira laughed, "Let you go? Let you go!" She rose her voice, "There's a lot of names in the ledger. I think the Jarl would be very interested in seeing what else you've been up to. I guess I could just kill you now. But why would I do that when I can watch you get your head cut off? I'm curious what they do to slavers and rapists in Skyrim. I know in Elsweyr they're obviously a bit lax about the slave trade. But rapists," Eira tsked, "They rip off your penis and leave you to bleed out in a den of snakes. In Cyrodiil you hang until you die, or you could get drawn and quartered. So many choices." She thought for a moment, "Maybe I should just kill you. Right now. That might be the most satisfying."

"Please don't." Belethor cried, "I'll leave Skyrim forever, change my name, give all my money to orphanages."

"Not good enough." Eira shook her head, "Because of you," She pointed with the fire poker, "I've lost my whole family. The only people I have ever cared about. Because of you, I have these," She displayed her tattoos, Belethor watched her pull up her sleeves so he could see the intricate diamond shaped tattoos that covered her elbows, they were engraved with a language he couldn't understand.

"Because of you," Eira shouted, "I had three children with a man who owned me, and he killed them right in front of me because I was Nord garbage. How dare you beg for your life, I have no mercy left for you."

Eira stabbed the fire poker right into Belethor's groin.

"Now die like the dog you are." She said, pulling it out and leaving Belethor to bleed to death on his bed.

She picked up the ledger, threw it on the bed, and closed the door behind her, listening to Belethor's screaming as she walked down the stairs. She threw the fire poker into the fireplace, watching the blood bubble and boil in the flames.

She met Lydia outside, who was singing 'Ragnar the Red' to herself.

"Let's go home." Eira said.

"Is he?"

"He will be." Eira nodded, "The store won't open tomorrow. People will just think he's on a much needed vacation. After a few days his assistant will finally open the doors and find the body, and the ledger. I'm sure the guards are capable of figuring it out."

"But you were the last person to be seen with him." Lydia pointed out, walking with Eira back to Breezehome.

"He couldn't get it up, so I left. You only paid the guards off to keep my sexual partners a secret. It was just the one time." Eira said, "I'll be shocked. Then make the remark that perhaps it was someone he sold a slave to. The rest will take care of itself."

"But your name is in that ledger." Lydia said.

"I shortened it before I came into Skyrim. My full name was Iveirana." Eira said, "Don't worry."

"Just," Lydia started, "Don't get too involved in the investigation. People will suspect things."

"That I care about slaves returning home?"

"That's another thing," Lydia said, "Your markings."

"Why do you think I wear gloves and cover my arms, Lydia?"

"I don't like it. You should have just found the ledger and brought it to the Jarl."

"I didn't like that plan. It involved fucking."

"At least you didn't have to murder him." Lydia whispered.

Eira shut the door to her house quickly, locking it before she turned to face Lydia.

"You listen to me. That man made my life Hell. I did the same thing to him as I did to my former Master. You said you wanted to be part of this, so now you are." Eira gritted her teeth, then she walked over to put wood in the fire pit.

Lydia sighed, "I'm sorry." She walked over and sat down by the growing fire, "I suppose my main concern is that nosy guard, the one who fought the dragon with you."

"Boromir?" Eira asked, "He's harmless."

"He's too good."

"Even if he does find out," Eira started, "And everything goes to shit, what do you think my odds are? I'm a former slave who killed the man who sold me. Compared to him, I sparkle. Not to mention, the Jarl and I are very close."

Lydia shot a look up to Eira, "You didn't."

Eira didn't answer. Instead, she stood up and went upstairs to change.

Lydia sighed and looked back at the fire.


	8. Chapter 8

_"He hated it and loved it, as he hated and loved himself. _

_He could not get rid of it. He had no will left in the matter. "_

It was nearly dawn when Boromir was awakened by a loud knock. He realized that once again he had fallen asleep at his desk. He wiped the sleep from his grey eyes and went to the door.

Irileth was standing outside, her dark red hair pulled back neatly, as it usually was. Her red eyes seemed to bore through Boromir.

"I apologize for the intrusion," She said, walking past him into the small room, "I was just informed that Belethor was found dead in his bedroom. Murdered."

"Dead?" Boromir was bewildered, "How? I thought Sigurd said he went out of town?"

Irileth nodded solemnly, "I thought so too. I have a few guards questioning him now. Commander Caius as you know is on leave for the next few days, so I thought I should inform you."

"Thank you, Irileth," Boromir said, he scratched his beard in thought, "Does the Jarl know?"

"I was just about to speak to him," Irileth told him, she took out a coin purse, "This is to bring to the Thane."

"What?"

"It is customary to compensate a Holds Thanes for the death of any citizen. I would go to her myself but I must speak to the Jarl." Irileth said.

"I'll get it done," Boromir said, "I would also like to speak to Sigurd myself."

"As you wish," Irileth saluted, "I will meet you in the dungeons later."

Boromir waited for Irileth to leave before he sighed.

"Great." He said to himself, gathering up his sword and shield.

On his way through the halls of Dragonsreach, Boromir had to remind himself to stop clenching his jaw. He wasn't too keen on seeing Eira again, in fact he preferred it when she was out hunting bandits for the Jarl. He was still reeling from her behavior at the Bannered Mare. In his time at Whiterun, he learned that women had much more freedom than they did in Gondor. Eira was the perfect example of that freedom.

There was a hard chill to the air when Boromir stepped outside. He cursed himself for not bringing his cloak.

A few of the guards that passed him gave a curt salute. It reminded him of his days back in Gondor where everyone knew his name and praised it. His stomach started to hurt; thinking of home did that.

He felt sad for making friends here, only to leave them when he finally gathered enough coin to take him and Lucia back to Gondor.

It was hard to find an excuse good enough for Lucia to not bring her. Boromir felt responsible for her now. He had hoped she would just stay in Whiterun, but it was like arguing with a stone wall.

Down near the Gildergreen, Boromir saw Lydia talking to Danica. She was holding a tree sapling with shining mauve leaves. Danica seemed upset at first, but took the sapling gently and thanked Lydia.

"Lydia!" Boromir called her over, "Do you have a moment?"

Lydia came over, her steel armor clanking slightly with each movement.

"How can I be of service?" She asked.

"I'm looking for Thane Eira."

"Oh," Lydia said, "We just got back from Eldergleam Sanctuary." She explained, "She should be at home now."

"Thank you." Boromir said, starting to walk away.

Lydia caught up with him, "What is this about? As her housecarl I should be informed."

"Right…" Boromir said, "It's a very sensitive matter."

"Then you should certainly tell me," Lydia said, "It is in my best interest to know what happens around here."

Boromir hesitated, waiting until the two were out of the market before speaking.

"I really think Eira should hear this as well." He said.

"As you wish." Lydia said.

Boromir knocked on the door to Breezehome.

"I can just let you in." Lydia said.

"Well I…"

The door swung open. Eira stood in the doorway, her hair let down from it's usual braids. She wore a simple blouse and trousers. Boromir pretended not to notice that the cold breeze made her nipples show.

She looked extremely tired, but she gave a smirk.

"Well, well. You're the last person I'd expect to grace my doorstep." She smiled.

"I need to speak to you." Boromir said.

"Straight to business I see?" Eira sighed, "Come on in." She moved away from the door to let the others inside. She and Lydia exchanged glances before she shut the door.

"Can I offer you a drink?" Eira asked, "I have plenty of Honningbrew Mead that's going to waste."

"I'm fine." Boromir said, slightly surprised that Eira kept a very tidy home. He tried to place the smell, finding that it was the stew that was bubbling over the fire.

"Hungry?" Eira asked, Lydia was already getting a wooden bowl for herself.

"No, thank you." Boromir cleared his throat, "I just came to give you coin."

Eira laughed, "What? No foreplay first?" She sat down in her chair next to the fire.

Boromir tried not to blush at her candid pervertedness, he still wasn't used to a woman talking in such a way, "It's compensation for the death of a citizen of Whiterun Hold."

Lydia dropped the ladle into the kettle, "What?"

Eira seemed momentarily startled, but regained her composure, "I wasn't aware anyone had died."

"It was Belethor. The shopkeep." Boromir said, "I was told he was found this morning by his assistant."

"How dreadful." Lydia said, "Was it his heart? I know Brentons can have heart problems in this kind of weather."

"I'm afraid not," Boromir said, "I really shouldn't divulge. But you are Thane." He looked to Eira, "I'm not quite aware of the details, but from what I know he seems to have been murdered."

"Really?" Eira asked, "I can't imagine who would do such a thing. Or why. Very mysterious."

"I agree. I know he wasn't a very pleasant man. But I can't imagine what sort of enemies he could have had." Boromir said.

"Well, like you said," Eira said with slight bitterness, "You aren't aware of all the details."

"Right," Boromir started, "Well here's the coin," He handed her the purse, "Have a nice day."

"I'll try. I am very shaken up by this news." Eira said, "Good luck with your investigation."

"Thank you," Boromir said, unsure of what to think now, "I'll let myself out."

After Boromir left, there was a long silence before Lydia looked over at Eira.

"He knows."

"No he doesn't."

"Well, he knows something."

Eira thought for a moment, "I think I'll go for a stroll."

"You're exhausted."

"Sleep can wait." Eira said, going upstairs to put on her bodice and boots.

Lydia waited downstairs, wolfing down her stew. She was on her second bowl when Eira came downstairs, her hair was back up in her usual braids.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Lydia offered.

"Not this time," Eira said, "I think I'll go up to Dragonsreach."

"Why?" Lydia asked.

Eira thought for a moment, "I don't know."

* * *

><p>Boromir and Irileth stared at the bloodied journal for a long while. They sat at Boromir's desk, Sigurd was off to the side, his knee bouncing up and down anxiously.<p>

"What do the names mean?" Boromir asked him.

"I really don't know." Sigurd said, his voice cracking.

"Some of them have blanks in this column," Irileth pointed out, "I don't understand."

Boromir flipped through the book, he stopped in the middle, his attention drawn to a bloodstain on the page. Looking through the list he saw the names Iveirana and Alfanna. A form of familiarity grew in the back of his mind.

Irileth seemed irritated, "What does it mean when it says 10 and then in the next column it's 100S?" She yelled at Sigurd.

"I don't know I don't know!" Sigurd started to weep.

"It's septums."

Boromir and Irileth turned to the door and saw Eira leaning against the wall.

"What?" Irileth asked.

Eira walked over and sat down across from them. She pointed to the names.

"That's who was taken," She moved her finger, "Age. Price. Buyer." She sighed, "It's a slave trader ledger."

"How-?" Boromir started.

"We need to show the Jarl at once." Irileth interrupted, "He'll want to know."

Irileth snatched up the journal and raced from the dungeons. She summoned the guards to follow behind her, Sigurd in tow. Boromir sat back and stared at Eira.

"How did you know?" He finally asked.

Eira shrugged, "I've seen a few."

"Really?"

"I've gotten around."

"I bet you have."

Eira laughed, "You're getting better with the comebacks. Good."

"Why are you really here, Eira?" Boromir asked.

Eira sighed, "Well. I thought you should know I'll be gone for a long while. Maybe forever. I don't know."

Boromir frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving in the morning." Eira said, "I got a little tired of killing bandits. I think maybe I should go see what these Greybeards want from me."

"Finally assuming responsibility?"

"Far from it," Eira laughed, "Every time I hiccup it causes an earthquake." She shook her head, "But my point is. I want you and your little girl to have Breezehome."

"I-" Boromir stopped himself, he wasn't sure what to say next, "Why?" Was all he could think of.

"Because it's getting a little depressing seeing her going to sleep at the Bannered Mare every night. Can't be good for the coinpurse." Eira said as she stood up to leave, "And I'm feeling generous today."

Boromir got up and caught her arm.

"It can't be as easy as that." He said, "You're not that way."

"Can't it be a simple gesture?" Eira asked.

"Nothing is simple with you."

"And you know me so well." Eira said sarcastically, "It's been a Hell of a ride with you, sweet thing. But it's time for me to go." She turned away.

"Don't." Boromir pulled her back.

"Oh?" Eira gripped his yellow guard tunic gently with both of her hands, "Are you going to lock me up so I can't leave?"

Boromir grabbed both of her wrists with each hand, "Is that what it'll take?"

"You'll have to use force I'm afraid." Eira said.

"Then I will."

"And you'll have to make sure the bars are extra tight. I could slip through." Eira whispered, "I'm very flexible."

Boromir felt a chill when she spoke into his ear, he was about to say something quick-witted but he found himself looking at Eira's pale lips.

"What's the matter?" Eira jested, "Cat got your-"

Boromir rushed to kiss her. It was heated and passionate, filled with such intensity that even Eira seemed caught off guard. She backed up to the desk and Boromir lifted her up onto it, not breaking their kiss. Boromir felt Eira wrap her legs around his, her fingers curled into his hair.

He undid the lacing to Eira's trousers with one hand, the other holding the back of her neck while he kissed down from her chin to her throat. He used two fingers to trail along her cunt.

Eira bit her lower lip, she leaned back slightly, overcome with ecstasy. But when she felt one of Boromir's fingers inside of her she jolted forward, both arms around his neck. Boromir kissed her again, then touched her forehead with his.

"I hope you know I'm a screamer." Eira said between breaths.

Boromir smirked, this time pressing both of his fingers into her.

"Good." He whispered before kissing her.

There was a gasp from the doorway. Eira felt a cold chill run through her. She and Boromir looked over and saw Lucia standing there, she had a basket of an assortment of wildflowers on her arm. Her brown eyes were wide and she seemed to pale.

"Lucia." Was all Boromir could say.

Lucia dropped her flower basket and ran out.

Eira and Boromir pulled away from each other. They looked at each other for a moment before Boromir ran after Lucia. Eira just hung back and rubbed her temples.

"Shit."

* * *

><p>"Lucia!" Boromir called out, "Lucia!"<p>

He had wandered the streets of Whiterun for hours trying to search for her. Finally, he went outside of the city into the plains. The sun was starting to go down, and Boromir wanted to find Lucia before nightfall.

By dumb luck he had stumbled upon Lucia's hideout. He crouched down and called inside.

"Lucia, darling?"

"Go away." He heard Lucia's small voice.

"Please come out of there." Boromir begged.

"Why?"

Boromir sighed, "Because I would like to talk to you."

"Forget it!"

Boromir sat down in the grass outside of the entrance, he could see Lucia holding Freida. She sat on her stool and looked at the wall opposite of her. Boromir could see the glimmer of tears streaming down her face.

"Lucia," Boromir said quietly, "Please talk to me."

Lucia just turned her head to the side.

Boromir sighed again. They sat in silence for a long while before Boromir cleared his throat.

He seemed unsure at first, but then he started to sing in a low voice, "The Road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began." He saw Lucia uncross her arms and look over to him, "Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow, if I can, pursuing it with eager feet, until it joins some larger way where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say." He waited for a little bit.

Eventually, Lucia poked her small blonde head out of her den, still holding Freida. She had a large pout on her face.

"Want to hit me?" Boromir asked.

Lucia gave a halfhearted punch to his shoulder. When Boromir raised his brow, she hit him harder.

"Better?"

"I guess."

"Talk to me, sweetheart." Boromir said.

Lucia sat in his lap while Boromir cradled her.

"Why?" She finally asked.

Boromir felt his stomach sink. He tried to choose his words carefully.

"Sometimes, when adults have certain feelings-"

Lucia punched him again, "I know what sex is, dummy. I meant why her? It's not that I don't like her or anything I just...I thought. I thought maybe I was gonna be the only person you needed. Remember? You said we were family now. Team kickass."

"First of all, language." Boromir said, "And we're going to talk about how you know more than you should."

"Don't be lame."

"Anyway…" Boromir furrowed his brow, "I still mean it. We are family. I'm not going to change that ever."

"Good." Lucia said.

Boromir smiled at her, "Want to go get a sweetroll?"

"Can I have an ale?"

"Lucia…"

"Fine, fine."

Later that night, Boromir sat with Lucia at the Bannered Mare. Lucia tore into her sweet roll while Boromir just laughed at her smart comments about the bard. When he looked up again, he could see Irileth coming through and looking flustered.

"We need to talk." She said bluntly.

Boromir looked at Lucia and gave her a few septims, "I'll be back."

Lucia just took the coins and shrugged, going back to her dessert.

Irileth pulled Boromir to the side, "A few of the guards spoke to me. Apparently Thane Eira had been seen with Belethor a few nights before he was found."

"What?"

"Lydia paid a few of them to keep it quiet. Said something about not talking about why the Thane was there. I don't want to be presumptuous, but…"

Boromir was quiet for a moment, "I'll-I'll um. I'll go see her. Maybe we can clear this up."

"Would you like me to accompany you? Jarl Balgruuf asked to be informed about anything in regards to the investigation." Irileth said.

"Sure." Boromir nodded. He walked back over to Lucia, "Stay here, I'll be right back."

"No way." Lucia said, following the adults close behind.

"Lucia, I mean it." Boromir said, "I promise I'll be back."

Lucia crossed her arms, pouting until Boromir closed the door to the Inn behind him.

"I do what I want." She said to herself, walking to the door.

She went outside to follow Irileth and Boromir. She wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying but every once in awhile she heard Eira's name come up.

Boromir stopped in front of Breezehome, knocking on the door. He waited a long while before knocking again, still getting no answer. He tried the handle, surprised that it wasn't locked. When he and Irileth had gone inside, Lucia hid by the doorway. She heard Boromir raise his voice.

"Mandos me…" He said, "She's gone."

"Did she say where she was going?" Irileth asked.

"To see the Greybeards…"

"She knows something, Boromir."

Boromir was silent for a long while. Finally, he sighed.

"I'm going after her."

"You're the acting Guard Captain…"

"I need to do this, Irileth." Boromir said, "Caius will be back in a few days."

Lucia stomped her foot and appeared in the doorway.

"You can't leave." Lucia she cried, crossing her arms angrily, "I won't allow it."

Boromir sighed, he walked over to her and got on his knees.

"Lucia, I need to do this," He explained, "I'll be back, you know."

"I don't care. This is unfair. Team kickass." Lucia frowned.

Boromir rubbed his temples, "Lucia," He started, "I'll only be gone a few days at most. I promise you. I'll be back before you know it. And you know what? Eira was nice enough to let us…" He stopped, "She knew."

Irileth stepped forward, "What?"

"She knew the guards would expose her. That's why she gave us Breezehome. She wasn't planning on coming back." Boromir said, "I need to find her."

He kissed Lucia on the forehead, then ran out the door. He quickly made his way to the guard barracks and gathered his things, changing back into his original armor. Once he was back outside, he saw Lucia standing with Irileth by the gates to the city.

"I took the liberty and called a horse for you." Irileth said, "And here's a map and compass to help you.

"Thank you," Boromir said, he looked down to Lucia, "I promise you I will be back as soon as possible. Then we can go on our own adventure."

Lucia tried not to smile, "I don't believe you. And you're not my father, so you can't really tell me what to do."

Boromir sighed, "I suppose I cannot. But I would highly suggest you stay out of trouble while I am gone."

"Fine." Lucia glared, "I'm not going to like it. I'll hate you until you come back."

"I can live with that." Boromir smiled at her, kissing her forehead before the guards opened the gates for him to leave.


	9. Chapter 9

_"I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone."_

It was about half a day's journey to High Hrothgar on horse. To get safely up the mountain, one would have to go to the town of Ivarstead, on the other side of the mountain range. To do that, Boromir would have to follow the White River into Eastmarch, then go down into the Rift. Or at least that's what Boromir figured from looking at the faded map that Irileth gave him.

Around mid-morning, Boromir stopped to let his mare rest, taking her saddle off as an added comfort. According to his map he found that he was where the Black River and the White River converged. He sat on a nearby stump, mapping out where he was going next. He had noticed signs pointing in the direction of Ivarstead, but he wanted to consult his map to double check where he exactly was.

Boromir's horse, Queen Alfsigr, went over into the grass to eat. She swished her black tail back and forth to hit flies. Every once in awhile she would look back to make sure Boromir was still there, then would turn back to her grazing.

It had started to snow by the time Boromir packed up his map and re-saddled Queen Alfsigr. He was just about to mount when he heard shrieking behind him. Not taking another second to think, Boromir unsheathed his sword and ran to where the sound was coming from.

Two large black wolves were circling an evergreen tree. One of them tried to jump up, it's claws scraping the bark. There was another scream and Boromir looked up. He saw a flash of light green moving further up the tree.

"Oh my God." Boromir felt like he was going to throw up.

He ran to the tree, swinging his sword at one of the wolves. The other tried to bite at his ankle, but Queen Alfsigr whinnied and hit its skull with her large hoof. Boromir ran the other wolf through and it fell to the snowy ground with a soft thud.

He didn't even look up at the tree, he knew if he did he would just be angry. Instead, he cleaned his sword and then sheathed it. He gave his horse an apple and waited.

After a moment of tense silence, he finally spoke.

"Are you coming down?"

Another long silence.

"You'll just be mad at me." Lucia sniffled.

"I'm not mad."

"Yes, you are."

"Just come down."

It took Lucia a few minutes to compose herself, but she eventually slowly climbed down the tree. She was wearing her dagger in her belt and her red hooded cloak that Boromir had gotten her. She looked at the ground and held her hands behind her. She didn't want to meet Boromir's steely gaze. She knew he was very angry with her.

"Are you hurt?" Boromir asked.

Lucia shook her head.

Boromir sighed, "Good." He shook his head, "I cannot believe you, young lady. Walking here, alone, in the cold? What were you planning on doing if I hadn't shown up?" He started to scold her.

"Spare me." Lucia said, "I know I'm in trouble. Ground me for life if you want to but we're too far from home for you to take me back now." She pointed out.

"At this point I'm angry enough to throw you the distance." Boromir said.

Lucia finally looked up at him. Boromir couldn't stay angry with her when she pouted like that.

"Damn." He said to himself. For a moment he was at a loss for words, finally he just wagged his finger, "You listen to me, and listen carefully, young lady. Just because you're here now does not mean you can go run off and do what you like. This is not like the plains outside of the city. We're out in the wilds now, and it is very dangerous. You will stay right by my side, or you will stay on the horse. That is all. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Lucia looked at the ground again.

Boromir sighed, then picked her up and kissed her cheek.

"Love you, butterfly."

"Love you too, ass."

* * *

><p>Eira held back, looking at the wooden post that pointed towards Riften. They had reached the bridge that crossed over the Black river to head towards Mistwatch. It was nearing midday and Eira was utterly exhausted.<p>

Lydia, who was ahead, looked back to see Eira stopped and staring. She knew Riften was in that direction, a wave of panic set in.

"Don't." Lydia snapped.

Eira didn't answer.

"This is a fight for another day, Eira, I promise you," Lydia begged, "We're so close."

Eira's horse started to get restless. Lydia could see it in Eira's eyes that she wasn't going to listen. Lydia made her horse lunge forward and they galloped towards Eira. In an act of desperation, Lydia jumped from her horse onto Eira, tackling her to the dirt. They landed with a great crash, their armor loudly clanking as Eira tried to get out of Lydia's grip.

Lydia held Eira down to the ground. Eira gave her a swift headbutt and used her elbow to push Lydia to the side. She rolled away from Lydia, then tried to stand up. Lydia was quick to pull at her ankle, bringing Eira crashing to the ground.

Eira twisted away from her grip and got to her feet, Lydia following suit.

"We're doing this for your own good, my Thane." Lydia said.

"My sister is there." Eira said, "I can't…"

"Yes, you can!" Lydia yelled, "This whole time we fucked off, and for what?"

"Shut the fuck up, Lydia!"

"You know it's true! You promised me we were going to High Hrothgar, and that's where we're going. You can't talk your way out of it this time!"

"What're you going to do?"

"I'm going to kick your ass!"

"Go right ahead!" Eira stood there, "Fuck me up!"

Lydia didn't hesitate, she walked right up to Eira and punched her. Eira reeled back slightly before pouncing upon Lydia and landing a few hits of her own. Lydia fought to wrestle Eira under her and punched her square in the jaw. Eira spit out blood, she reached her hand out and threw up a clump of dirt into Lydia's eyes. Lydia stood up and tried to wipe the dirt away. Eira swiftly kicked her in the groin, causing her to fall back to the ground.

Blindly, Lydia swung and hit Eira as she was trying to sit up. Eira held her right eye, angrily kicking Lydia again. Lydia retaliated by landing a hit right to Eira's throat.

Eira started choking, blood spewing from her mouth as she crawled away to lean against the wall of the stony bridge. Lydia stumbled her way to the river, washing away the dirt. Exhausted, she fell next to Eira.

The two of them sat in silence, breathing heavily. Blood seeped from Lydia's forehead, running down the side of her face. She looked over at Eira, whose nose and mouth were pouring blood.

Lydia started to chuckle, coughing out dirt every few breathes. Eira shot a glance to her, seeing the mud around Lydia's face made her join Lydia in laughter. There they sat, laughing and bleeding.

Eira spit out a gob of blood, her teeth stained red.

"I'm sorry." She said.

Lydia nodded, "Me too."

They leaned into one another, touching foreheads. Quickly they both reeled back in pain, suffering from the blows to the head.

"Later." Eira said.

Lydia nodded in agreement, standing up and holding out her hand to Eira.

Eira went over and cleaned her mouth and nose with the river water, washing the rest of the dirt and blood off of her face.

Despite the weather, the water felt like a warm bath to her and it gave her an odd comfort. They had crossed the bridge over towards an abandoned prison when they stopped.

Lydia was now over by their horses, unsaddling them so they could rest for an hour or so. Eira went over to her dappled horse, Windrunner, and fed him a carrot.

"We're making pretty good time I think," Lydia said, "We should be in Ivarstead before nightfall. They have an Inn if I remember correctly."

"Wonderful." Eira said absently.

Lydia sighed, "You did the right thing."

"Hmm?" Eira looked at her, "Oh. Yeah I suppose I did. Part of me feels confident, but then there's this little annoying voice that sounds like my mother. And it's constantly telling me what I did was absolutely rotten." She then added, "And it's very strange…"

"What is?"

Eira pet Windrunner's nose, "I keep thinking back to Boromir. I think that's what's really bothering me. The whole time we were in that room together I kept thinking 'Eira, just tell him everything. He'll understand.' And I know it's incredibly ridiculous now that I think back on it. But whenever he's there I feel this compulsion come over me." She shuddered, "And, when he had his hands on me there was this animalistic urge. I've been kissed before but, this was so different. It's as if it wasn't just the act of fucking, it was...I don't know…"

"Cosmic?" Lydia said jokingly.

Eira snapped her fingers and pointed at Lydia, "Yes. I know that's ridiculous but that's what it was, Mara help me." She thought for a moment, "Maybe it is good we're out of Whiterun. I feel like I can think more clearly."

"Oh good," Lydia said, "Now that you don't have cocks on your mind."

Eira laughed, "I can still think. Sometimes I get my best ideas while fucking. If he's boring I'll just lay there, 'I wonder how big Tiber Septims dick was. And if he Shouted while cumming does he accidentally kill whomever he's fucking?'"

Lydia just stared at Eira, "What?"

"This has happened." Eira admitted, "I won't say who though."

"I don't even know how to dignify what you just said."

Eira shrugged and went back to petting her horse.

Lydia shook her head and went to go start a small fire to cook up a few salmon that she had caught earlier.

Eira took her banded iron armor off so that she could rip off her chainmail shirt, which was becoming uncomfortable for her. Her black undershirt was moist with sweat, despite the growing chill in the air. Going back to the river, she splashed her face again, this time getting the cool waters all around her aching neck. She kept a mindful eye out for slaughterfish, thankful that there were none at the moment.

Once she was finished, she walked back over to Lydia, who was salting their meal.

"Where do you see yourself going after this?" Eira asked her, sitting on a stump to empty pebbles from her boot.

"What do you mean?"

"Well you can't want to be my housecarl forever." Eira said.

Lydia shrugged, "I always liked the idea of being a great shield maiden. Defending a Jarl in battle, becoming memorialized and talked about in the stories." She shook her head, "But that's just ridiculous."

"I think you could do it." Eira said.

"It's easy for you," Lydia said, "You're the Dragonborn. You'll be sung about for centuries to come."

Eira scoffed, "We'll see."

The two of them sat in silence, listening to the salmon sizzle and crackle over the flames. At one point, a fox had run by them. Windrunner had nickered at the creature and it scurried off into the woods. Snow had begun to fall again, and started sticking to the limbs of the trees around them. It swirled around in the smooth breeze, looking akin to dancing fairies.

"Have you thought more about the letter from the Jarl of Falkreath?" Lydia finally asked.

Eira rubbed her chin in thought, "Well. It's relatively close to Whiterun I think."

"It's still a different Hold to be Thane of. And after Jarl Siddgeir took over, the Thanes loyal to his uncle left for Windhelm." Lydia shrugged, "Seems like he could use the allies."

"I do like the idea of owning my own land." Eira said, "Maybe afterwards we can cut through the pass and into Falkreath."

"Well who knows how long we'll be up at High Hrothgar."

"Lydia…"

Lydia shushed Eira quickly. There was a long silence. Eira almost broke it when she heard hoofprints coming down the road on their side of the river. Eira moved silently to where her sword was while Lydia put out their small fire.

Eira stood in the middle of the road, watching the blurry shape of a horse and it's rider come into view. She prepared herself to use the limited magic that she knew, feeling the fire of her destruction spell tingle through her fingers.

Now only a few meters away, the horse came to a stop. Eira watched the rider slide out of the saddle and they walked towards their small camp.

"Stop right there." Eira held her sword out, striking her right thumb over her right palm to ignite her fire spell, "Who are you and what do you want?"

The figure stopped. It seemed to struggle with itself for a moment, twitching every which way before a red blur burst forth from it. Whatever it was was much smaller and was running right for Eira. There was the small patter of feet that caught Eira off guard, so she was unprepared to be tackled by a small blonde haired girl.

Eira felt the air leave her lungs when she landed on the ground. She could hear Lydia erupt with laughter.

"You're okay!" Lucia cried, then she added, "Why do you have a black eye? And your nose is all bruised over..."

Eira just groaned, the pain in her head swimming. Lucia hugged her tightly. When Eira realized what was happening, she just patted Lucia's head.

"Hey, kid." Eira croaked.

"I told Boromir we would find you if we crossed the river, but he didn't believe me." She imitated Boromir, "'We need to stick to the map.' Skeever shit I say."

"Lucia," Boromir scolded her, he walked over to Eira, helping her off the ground, "I told you to stay near me."

"I knew it was her." Lucia furrowed her brow, "Ass." She ran over to hug Lydia.

Eira just looked at Boromir, not knowing quite what to say and hurt that he wouldn't meet her gaze. She just rubbed the back of her neck, the sleeve to her undershirt falling to her elbow and exposing her tattoos and scarification. When Boromir noticed, Eira quickly lowered her sleeve, turning to find her gloves to cover her hands. Boromir stopped her.

"We need to talk." Was all he said as he pulled her off to the side, leaving Lucia to ask Lydia about sword fighting techniques.

The two of them went over by a large oak tree, far enough where they could see the camp but not hear anything.

"Listen…" Eira started.

"No," Boromir shook his head, "You'll listen to me first." His words stuck in his throat for a moment and he sighed in frustration, "You...drive me fucking crazy."

"Eloquent."

"I'm serious," Boromir snapped, "What, you thought you can get your rocks off one last time before you disappear to who knows where? Not even a goodbye or an 'Oh, Boromir, by the way, I slept with a man who was just murdered.'?"

"Woah," Eira held her hands up, "First of all, harsh. Secondly, I didn't sleep with him."

"Then why didn't you just tell me?" Boromir asked, "Why all the secrecy?"

Eira sighed and let her arms fall, "Some things are just better left alone."

"I don't accept that." Boromir said.

Eira felt her temper rise, "Because if you knew!" She stopped herself, lowering her voice, "Because if you knew everything...I don't think you would ever look at me the same way."

"Well you're not a very good judge of character then are you?" Boromir said.

Eira felt a lump in her throat, she tried to swallow it down so she could talk, "Just go." She begged, "Where I'm going...it's not meant for others to follow. Go home to Whiterun. Say I'm dead I don't care."

"What, no!" Boromir said, "Just tell me why, Eira. I want to help."

Eira just looked away, she rubbed her temples, trying to keep from exploding.

Boromir hesitated at first, but suddenly felt a burst of confidence, "Your name. It's Iveirana isn't it?"

Eira froze.

"I'm-"

"Yes." Eira answered.

"What?"

"You heard me." Eira snapped.

There was a long uncomfortable silence. Boromir held back from saying anything else. Eira finally sighed, avoiding Boromir's eyes as she spoke.

"My name was Iveirana. I was born in Dawnstar. My sister is Alfanna. She's only five years younger than I...her birthday was a few days ago." She said, "The day that Belethor was murdered."

"So. You-"

Eira nodded, "Belethor sold me into slavery when I was 10. My sister as well. I fought him hard, to keep away from her. One night he tried…" Eira had to clear her throat, choking the tears back, "Alfanna bit him. He hit her so hard that she was still passed out when he sold her." Eira started to clench her jaw, "He took me all the way to Elsweyr. Every chance I got I tried to escape. He would just...drag me back. He almost didn't sell me, I was too much fun. Didn't stop him from visiting me until I was sixteen."

"Eira…" Boromir started.

"No. You asked," She said, "So I'm going to tell you. I'll tell you exactly how I killed him. Why I did it. Why I enjoyed every second of it…" She stopped herself.

Eira looked at her hands and gave a wry laugh, "When you're a slave, they put these thick iron rings in a fire. Once they're hot enough they hold you down and jam them onto your finger. Once they make it down to the knuckle they shove your hands in cold water. It takes months to get the skin separated from the metal."

"This…" She pointed to the symbol inside her middle finger, "It's an inguz. That way your master knows you're a fertile Nord. After a certain age they just chop the finger off..." She sighed, giving a slight shudder, "The other scars were from the bastard who bought me." She looked at Boromir, "You know what Belethor said the last day he saw me?" She asked, "'No one will ever be as good as you.'"

Boromir wasn't sure what to say, so he took Eira's hands into his.

"Are you going to arrest me now?" She asked halfheartedly.

"No," He said, "Eira...I'm sorry."

"People say the past is in the past," She said, "Maybe it's time to test that."

"After we find Alfanna."

Eira perked up, "We?"

"Of course," Boromir said, "I know what it's like to lose a sibling. Maybe not for twenty years, but...I want to be there. For you."

Eira started to smile, "Really?"

Boromir picked up her hands and gently rubbed the scars, "I intend on seeing you through this. Whatever it takes, then we'll go back and explain everything. And in the words of Lucia, 'You don't get to tell me what to do, you skeever shit.'"

Eira started to laugh, which made Boromir smile.

"She really calls you that?" She asked.

"Every day."

"I knew I liked her for a reason."

They both stared at each other in a comfortable silence.

"Thank you." Eira finally spoke.

Boromir wanted to lean down to kiss her. Instead, Eira hugged him.

"Ew."

Eira and Boromir turned to see Lydia with Lucia on her shoulders, they were both eating the sweet rolls that Lucia had packed.

"Ew?" Eira asked, "How about I ask you why you're here in the first place?" She went over to tease Lucia.

"I wouldn't have had to come if you hadn't run away from your feelings." Lucia retorted, "Or whatever you feel in your pants."

"Smart ass." Eira scoffed.

"Witch."

"Pint sized shit."

"Slut."

"Lucia!" Boromir scolded.

Eira just laughed, "She's alright. Perfect the delivery and you're golden."

"That was my best, and my best is already perfection." Lucia hmphed.

"Touche, kid."

Lydia didn't bother building up a fire again, the snow was too intense at that point. Instead, they packed up their camp and saddled the horses. Eira put her armor back on, this time not bothering with her chainmail shirt. She gave it to Lucia to wear over her dress, as it was long enough to reach past her knees.

Lucia rode with Eira this time, sitting in front of her while Eira let her hold the reins. Eira had gotten her dark green cloak out, not necessarily for her, but to mostly keep Lucia out of the elements.

The snowfall had increased as they made their way slowly to the village. Lucia's hands had begun to freeze, so Eira took their reins from her and surrendered her fur-lined gloves. They were a bit large for Lucia, but they kept her fingers warm. Eira put her cowl up to keep the snow from her eyes.

Out of curiosity, Lucia traced Eira's thumb tattoo with a disproportionate gloved finger. She followed it up past Eira's wrist where her shirt had covered the rest of the ribbony pattern. She looked at Eira's other hand, seeing the same pattern.

"Why do you cover them up?" Lucia asked, "They're awfully pretty."

"Well, sweet thing," Eira thought for a moment, "Sometimes tattoos bring back bad memories, it's best not to look at them."

"Then why get them?" Lucia cocked her head to the side, still admiring the inky black swirls.

"Would it answer your question if I told you I didn't have a choice?" Eira suggested.

Lucia was quiet for a while. Eira was glad for the silence. Finally, Lucia sighed.

"Maybe you shouldn't cover them up anymore."

"Why is that?" Eira asked.

"The way I see it," Lucia began, "They're part of you now. Right?"

"Correct."

"Why try to hide? You should be proud of who you are, no matter how bad things might have gotten. You're in a different place." Lucia shrugged, "Just because they meant a shit thing in the past doesn't mean you can't change what it means now."

Eira opened her mouth to speak, but wasn't sure how to answer.

"How old are you?" Eira finally asked.

"Old enough to kick your ass."

"Right."

As Lydia had predicted, it was dusk by the time they rode into Ivarstead. Once their horses were tied, they went into the Vilemyr Inn. It was warm inside, and smelled of ale and salted meat.

There was an awkwardness about their arrival, as Ivarstead had been getting fewer pilgrims over the years rolling through to make the trek up the 7,000 steps.

Eira went to the owner of the Inn, paying him gold to stay for the night. There were only two beds available, much to Lucia's dismay.

"Well I'm not gonna stay in a room with Boromir, he's a boy." She frowned.

Lydia looked at Eira and Boromir, rolled her eyes, then sighed, "You and me, kid." She patted Lucia's shoulder.

"Yes!" Lucia instantly grinned, she pulled Lydia along, "We can braid hair and stay up and talk about knives." Then she whispered into Lydia's ear, "This way we can make fun of them for the sex later."

Lydia looked back, her blue eyes widened with fear as she mouthed 'Help' to Eira, who just laughed.

Boromir and Eira walked quietly to their room, the sounds of the bard's drumming ringing in their ears.

"I'll take the floor." Boromir said quickly.

Eira raised her eyebrow, "Afraid I'll bite your head off while you sleep?" She laughed, "Don't be ridiculous." She unlaced her armor and brought it over her head, placing it to the side near the small wardrobe.

Boromir turned around and undid his own armor. When he had gotten down to adjust his undershirt and trousers, he could smell a sweet aroma filling the room. Out of instinct he turned around. He felt himself blush when he saw Eira's bare back facing him. He started to look away but the scarred over X had caught his attention, along with what seemed like healed over lash marks.

The smell had come from oils diluted with rosewater that Eira had laid out for herself and was meticulously applying small amounts to herself. Boromir was entranced with the way she moved. Her hands moved up to her hair as she slowly undid her braids, he watched her fingers work, the muscles in her arms flexing with each gesture.

She had strong shoulders, her body was purely muscle and yet there were still curves to her. Boromir could see her back dimples as she set aside the leather thongs for her hair.

Boromir realized he had been staring too long and cursed himself for being unchivalrous. He turned back around quickly until Eira saw fit.

The image of her still bore into his head. Then something suddenly clicked with him, but he wasn't sure what to do about it.

"Why so shy now, sweet thing?" Eira jested, pulling her white chemise over her head.

Boromir turned back around, seeing Eira looking at him, her hands on her hips.

"I-," He fumbled with his words, "I think."

Eira cocked her head to the side, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"I need to know." Boromir finally said.

"Know?" Eira asked, a flash of concern crossing her face.

"In Whiterun. When…" Boromir felt his throat dry up, "When we kissed."

"Divines, you're a virgin." Eira's eyes widened.

Boromir shook his head quickly, "No, no. Wait. That's not what I was going to say. I just didn't know if, maybe you had thought it meant something different than maybe what I thought." Boromir felt his shoulders tense up.

"Well, what did you think?" Eira asked.

"Oh God," Boromir rubbed the back of his neck, "Look. I'm far from being eloquent about these things…"

"Perhaps it was a bit rushed. I mean," Eira gave a dry laugh, "Aside from these couple days, you barely know me."

"Would it discourage you if I wanted to learn more then?" Boromir asked.

Eira scoffed, "You say that now." She sat down on the bed.

"I'll say it as much as I need to." Boromir said, then added, "If you don't feel anything just tell me and I'll let it go. But…"

He sat down next to her, not knowing how to finish his thought. He set his head in his hands, thinking what a mess he had made for himself.

"You are so bad at this." Eira finally said.

"I know." Boromir said into his hands.

There was another long silence before Eira spoke.

"When I was a child my father took me hunting and I was so nervous I shot him in the ass." She said.

Boromir looked at her, Eira just shrugged.

"You said you wanted to know more about me. So I'm telling you I shot my father with an arrow to the ass. The shit part was that the deer was in the opposite direction."

They both started laughing.

"Alright," Boromir said as he sat up, "I remember coming home from an excursion to Osgiliath. It was the city that we had to keep defending from the enemy as it was our first line of defense. But anyway, it was my first victory and I was still very young and incredibly stupid." He laughed, "I got so drunk, that I blacked out. The next morning my brother had told me I went out on the battlements, stripped naked, screaming at the top of my lungs 'For Gondor!'. He said he had to pull me away from falling off. My father saw him dragging me back to my room, turned around, and walked away."

Eira sat up on the bed, her legs now curled to her chest. Boromir saw her shoulders shaking with laughter, her ears turning bright pink and then red. Eira finally calmed down enough to wipe away her tears.

"I'm sorry," She laughed, "I just have a hard time seeing you of all people doing that."

"Why is that so surprising?"

"Because you're...so good?" Eira shrugged, "It's like trying to imagine a puppy killing a Giant."

Boromir scoffed, "I am not a puppy."

"Yes, you are." She grinned, "Granted a very large one, but one nonetheless."

"I resent that," Boromir said, "I am not as good as you think I am."

"Alright, then prove it," Eira raised her brow, "Tell me how many?"

Boromir paused, "How many what?" He was already regretting his earlier statement.

"How many flowers do you put in your hair before you're an elf?" Eira said sarcastically, "How many women have you beded? Or men? I don't judge."

"Uh-" Boromir scratched the back of his neck, "I mean. None while I've been here. Unless you count...what we did."

"That was foreplay. I mean sex."

"Well," Boromir turned red, "Two. It's different where I live. The women there aren't like they are here."

"I see." Eira said.

"Are you still not judging me?" Boromir asked with a growing smirk.

"No, sweet thing." Eira laughed, "I find it hard to believe it's been so little a number. Or at least that's what I think now, your performance could pale to your foreplay."

"Alright, fine," Boromir scoffed, "You tell me."

"How many men I've been with? Should I include women as well?" She asked, "Would it help if I said who?"

"Don't be vindictive." Boromir laid next to her, propping up on his elbow.

"It's who I am." Eira smirked, "But to answer your question, three."

"Men? Or women?"

"Total."

"Then that's not much better than my answer."

"It is if you take into consideration multiple time with one person." Eria sighed, "But if it's anything to you, I would like number four to be the last."

Boromir looked up at her, "Really?"

"It's a good number." Eira said, she moved down so that she was also up on her elbow, "Wouldn't you agree?" She asked.

Boromir shrugged, "Get back to me when it's nine." He started laughing.

"Shut up." Eira smiled, giving his shoulder a gentle push. She turned to her other side and away from him as if to sleep.

Boromir pulled her onto her back and moved closer so that she looked up at him. He leaned in to kiss her. It was gentle at first, remembering how soft he thought her lips were. His left arm slid under Eira's neck, pushing them closer together as their kissing became rough and heavy.

Eira pulled away from him, her forefinger trailing from his throat down to his collarbone and then to the opening in his shirt.

"I think it'd be a shame to not finish where we left off." She said, her eyes glancing down towards Boromir's groin.

"I couldn't agree more." Boromir smirked, bending down to kiss her sun freckled neck, "You did say you were a screamer." He said quietly, moving his right hand down to lift up her nightgown.

As his fingers trailed up her bare legs, he could feel Eira writhing beneath him. He moved slowly, caressing her thighs and around her hips. He could feel that she was already soaking wet when he finally ran his fingers over her panties.

He watched her lips part when he started rubbing her slit, and he certainly enjoyed the small excited yelp she gave out when he slid a finger inside of her. He bent down to kiss her again as her circled her clitoris with his thumb.

When Eira's legs started to spread, Boromir moved between them, rubbing her up and down faster. He bent down, bringing her dress over his head.

Eira's hips began to move to the quick rhythm of Boromir's hand. Fingers moving deftly around her clitoris and between the folds. She could feel Boromir's teeth on her inner thighs.

She felt heavy kisses being placed just over her labia. Boromir began taking her with his tongue.

Eira grabbed the blanket, her nails digging into the soft fur. She could feel her hips shaking. When he swirled his tongue around her clit she let out a loud moan. She found herself aching, almost painfully, for him to just fuck her. She wanted his hands all over her body, grabbing at her skin as he thrust into her.

But still he fucked her with his tongue. She didn't want to orgasm just yet, but the anticipation and the teasing sent her over. Her legs clamped around Boromir's neck as he ate her out. He felt her spasm, her body no longer in control of itself. Her moans and arousal made his dick harder, and he knew it was just a matter of time before he would be inside of her.

He moved out from under her dress, adorning a large grin. The look in Eira's eyes was near primal, and it both terrified and excited Boromir. Her pupils seemed to dilate and she jumped up to her knees to take her gown off. Boromir followed suit and ripped his shirt off. Eira was already unlacing his trousers, biting at his neck and chest.

Her hands moved up and down his erection. She bit her lip admiring its length. After Boromir took the rest of his trousers and undergarments off Eira was already on top of him. Boromir grabbed her ass, digging his fingers into her soft flesh as she teased him.

She slowly moved onto the tip of his dick, biting her bottom lip as she slid him inside of her. She moved up and down, careful not to push him inside her all at once.

Boromir sat up, his chest meeting hers. He cupped her buttocks, moving with her as she moved up and down. Eira whined, feeling his heavy kisses around her collarbone. She let out a moan when he sucked on her hard brown nipple.

He felt her tighten around him. On impulse he lifted her off of him and threw her to the wall that their bed had been set up against. He held Eira up by her ass with one hand, using the other to pin both of her wrists above her.

Boromir settled himself inside of her cunt, this time fitting himself all the way. As he did so, Eira let out a loud whine and a few choice curses.

Boromir fucked her against the wall, Eira's moaning getting louder and more frequent. Sweat began to run down both of their spines. Boromir buried his face in between her breasts, the scent of rose water and sex filling his nostrils.

Eira's swearing became unintelligible whimpers of pleasure. Boromir could feel himself about to cum inside of her. He held back until Eira was brought to orgasm once more. When he finally felt her convulse around him, he gave a few quick thrusts, spilling into her and biting her neck as they both came.

Boromir realized how hard he had been holding Eira, and let go gently. He laid down on the bed, propped up on his side. He watched Eira crawl over to him, her hips swaying as she moved to him. She laid stretched out on her stomach like a sunning cat. Her long legs in the air moving back and forth with a girlish delight.

Boromir ran his fingers down her spine, occasionally grazing over the scars on her back. Eira started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Boromir asked.

Eira buried her face into the blanket, her ears started to turn red. She looked back up at Boromir.

"It's just…" She seemed embarrassed, "You're the first one who's seen me completely naked."

"What?"

Eira nodded, "You can fuck with clothes on."

"Their loss then." Boromir said, kissing her shoulder.

The two of them crawled under the covers. Boromir started to shiver.

"You're freezing." Eira said, cuddling up to him.

"You're not?" Boromir held her in his arms.

"No." Eira laughed, "Don't worry I'll keep you warm."

"I appreciate the gesture." Boromir chuckled, giving her nose a kiss, and then her mouth.

They laid there in the quiet, listening to the bard outside playing her lute. Boromir looked down at Eira, who had fallen asleep. She seemed peaceful, her dark and wavy hair falling onto her sun spotted cheek. Boromir laid back onto his pillow and sighed out of contentment.

In her sleep, Eira rested her arm over his chest.

Boromir smirked and closed his eyes, drifting into the blackness of sleep.


End file.
